


Three's company

by Sumthinelse



Series: Shelter [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Flashbacks, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of abuse of an animal considered to be livestock., Minor Chris Argent/Isaac Lahey, Misunderstandings, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, There might be a bit of Sterek, mentions of castration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumthinelse/pseuds/Sumthinelse
Summary: Chris, Stiles and Peter all needed to grow a bit. Too much has been happening for them to try without stepping back and taking a good look at themselves. The pain has been lanced, now it's time to heal.Smut. Here be smut.Flashback smut between Chris and Peter and a small amount of Chris/Victoria*I changed the warnings because Chris and Peter did not have a healthy dynamic in their youth, and they both had ideas about consent and entitlement that were wrong.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Isaac Lahey, Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Victoria Argent, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Shelter [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654153
Comments: 15
Kudos: 76





	1. Start things off with a bang

Stiles woke up sweaty and half-crushed by Derek, it was his new normal. He threw some elbows to get out of the snuggle and didn’t take the other man’s morning wood personally. There was never any intent behind it. He wandered into his bathroom, peed, and washed his hands before seeking coffee. He saw Isaac in the kitchen who had drool crusted at the edge of his mouth and had beaten him to the coffee maker.

“I’m brewing enough for all of us,” the younger man said.

“I’ll start breakfast. You want bacon and eggs?”

“I think we’re out of bacon.”

“Eggs and bagels?”

“Sure, thanks.” Isaac looked nervous. “Um, I’m going to the range today. With Chris. He’s showing me how to shoot.”

“Cool. Nobody knows more about all the different weapons out there than him. The range is pretty cool, too. A lot quieter than you’d think. Watch out for Danielle, she’s a little prickly.”

“I will. I just felt like it’s a better idea to know how to defend myself, so I don’t have to use any of my abilities.”

“That’s how Chris was able to hide what he was around people trained to hunt them.” Stiles cracked some eggs into a bowl and added some hot sauce before he scrambled them. He tossed a pat of butter in the hot pan to melt. “If he’s got time, maybe he can give you lessons on fighting too.”

“What kind?”

“As far as styles go, he’s probably the better judge.” He saw Isaac’s eyes flicker to the door. “Is he picking you up this morning?”

“Yeah, I slept in a bit.”

“Okay, good you made the coffee, he’s a bear without a liter of it.” He smiled as Isaac ran back to his room, probably wanting to avoid being in a room with the ex-lovers. He heard the elevator indicate an arrival. “Door’s open,” he said, in his normal tone, and after a moment’s hesitation, Chris opened the door; he looked at Stiles and then at the deadbolt. “In anticipation,” he said. “Coffee?”

“Yeah.” Chris’s scowl was likely about the continued insistence of the young men to not lock their doors. “Isaac tell you the plan?”

“Yeah, I was suggesting he learn to fight too.” Stiles poured Chris a cup and nodded at the sugar. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah, I’m good with coffee.” Stiles poured the eggs into the pan, making it sizzle. “Want me to throw those in?” He nodded at the bagels sitting in front of their toaster oven.

“Yeah, please.” Stiles stirred the eggs and sprinkled on some cheese. They scrambled up quickly and he put a lid on them to keep them hot. “Isaac’s too pretty to not know how to defend himself. It makes sense that he should have an excuse why his skinny little arms can toss someone around the room.”

“How did you learn?”

“Boxing lessons. I was fast on my feet, and good about ducking. Isaac’s got a long reach, but I see him as less of a brawler, more of a finesse fighter. He’s pretty graceful when he’s not thinking about it.”

“I learned a more aggressive style of fighting, but the training was with the purpose of fighting a stronger, faster opponent. It might suit him.”

“I don’t want to try and give away your time, I know you’ve got a lot going on, but if you can find some time to spar with him and evaluate him…” He shrugged. “Derek, I’m using up the rest of the eggs, come out here if you want some. I’m not going to the store till this afternoon.”

“I’ve got time, I can work with him if it’s what he wants.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“It’s a good idea, the Hales were all taught to fight for the same reason.” Chris drank some more coffee and Stiles went to the toaster oven to take out the bagels. He put cream cheese on his and Isaac’s and left the younger man’s on a plate. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Better. I think the headaches are something I’m just going to have to live with for a while.” He frowned. “I got something for the migraines when I saw my new doctor.”

“Have you tried taking magnesium? Victoria got terrible migraines regularly. She took magnesium every day and said it cut them down significantly.”

“I’ll give it a try.” He took a bit of his bagel and eggs. “How’s it going with Allison?”

“She moved her stuff out of the house.” Chris looked a little resigned. “Kate’s possessions came to me, but I gave Allison her apartment. She said she was putting her stuff from the house in it and using it as a rental for now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. She’s always welcome at the house, but she and I will both be more comfortable with some space. She’s not comfortable with me dating right now but I don’t want to have to sneak around my own house.” His pale eyes met Stiles’s over their respective coffee cups. “Have you heard from her?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“I hope you two patch things up.”

“Me too.”

“Does your head hurt now?”

“Yeah.” They both turned as Derek came out of Stiles’s room. He shuffled over to the stove, scraped some eggs onto Isaac’s plate and took it with him. “Do not eat in my bed.” Derek paused and hunched his shoulders, guiltily. “You must have some furniture in your room.”

“He does,” Chris said, stiffly. “I helped him put together the bedroom set.”

“The what?” Stiles bolted after the Alpha Werewolf who dashed into Peter’s office and shut the door. Stiles barged through the perpetually closed door to Derek’s bedroom. Isaac came out of his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist when Stiles started swearing. Derek’s bedroom was set up with a pull-up bar, a desk and computer chair, an easy chair with a lamp beside it for reading, and a king-sized platform bed with a matching nightstand and bureau.

“What’s wrong?” Chris looked completely confused.

“He’s been telling me for weeks that his bed hasn’t arrived in order to sleep in _my_ bed.” Stiles jumped up onto the bed and started hopping up and down on the mattress. “I’m spending my nights getting smothered by him. I’ve never slept in the same bed with someone else for this many consecutive nights in a row. Not even when I was actually getting _laid_.”

“You didn’t know he had a bed?” Isaac’s chest gleamed wetly, and Chris looked away.

“No, because he’s a lying liar who lies!” Stiles continued to jump on the mattress. “You could’ve just said something, Derek!” He hopped down and stomped back to the kitchen. “Derek ate your breakfast.” He slapped Isaac’s chest on the way by.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Isaac scampered back to his room and shut the door. Back in the kitchen, Stiles finished his breakfast and drank a second cup of coffee. He went to his own room and made his bed. He heard Chris knock softly at the door to the suite.

“Come on in,” he said, rubbing his temple. “Magnesium, huh?”

“That bad?”

“Stiff neck from being pancaked by Derek doesn’t help.”

“Here, let me help.” Stiles sat on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes as Chris’s warm hands settled on the sides of his neck. He sighed as the pain started to ease off and the absence of it felt almost euphoric. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I never took Essence when I was working at the shelter. It was too weird, you know? Now that I could use it, the supply’s dried up.”

“I’ll see what I can manage,” Chris said, and Stiles chuckled, reaching for the man’s belt. “Oh!” He jumped slightly and Stiles dropped his hands.

“I’m sorry, I was on autopilot, and the view was familiar.” He was sitting on the bed with Chris standing in front of him, and was eye-level with the older man’s crotch. He put a hand over his face. “I think I was cruising on endorphins from the pain relief.”

“It’s okay, I forgot that we haven’t told you about the new business.” Chris sat down beside him. “Come on in Isaac.” He looked up as the other Omega walked in, looking uncomfortable. “Peter wanted to help Deaton, since insurance is always slow, and set up a business model for selling Essence. He’ll eventually establish a business on his own.”

“It makes sense for him to sell it.” He looked at Chris who looked away. “You’re doing it too? Who else?”

“Scott, Peter, your father, and I are Alphas, so we’re able to produce almost as much as the farm. Boyd too, but only when he needs to be milked.”

“So, do you just all go over to Deaton’s and jerk it once a week?” Isaac was leaning against the doorframe. “He’s the one with the supplies, right?”

“We keep storage supplies at our houses,” Chris was blushing.

“Do you use dry ice or just regular ice packs?” Stiles asked and raised an eyebrow at Isaac’s smirk. “I used to do this professionally, it’s a science.”

“He warned us about dry ice, just a regular cold pack.”

“That’s great, did he make dietary recommendations?”

“Not exactly.” Chris turned even redder.

“You need to come hang with the Omegas once a week and get your fix of the almighty pheromones?” Stiles lifted his arm and waved a hand under his pit to waft his scent at the Alpha who chuckled. Isaac shook his head.

“No wonder you said you’d help me learn to shoot,” he said.

“Hey, it was just a recommendation for us if we had a drop in production, but I haven’t had that happen yet. I agreed to help you because I wanted to.” He stood up. We should get going if we want to have a chance to spar later. I’ll get you some drive-through if you’re hungry.” He stood up and herded Isaac towards the hallway. “See you later, Stiles. I’ll let Peter know you could use something for your headache.”

“Bye.” Stiles got dressed and since Derek the fink had vacated Peter’s office for his own room, he went in to start work on one of Peter’s pet projects for him. His lack of a headache helped with looking at spreadsheets. It wasn’t much different from the admin work he’d been doing at the shelter: income and expenses catalogued.

“Hey.” Peter stuck his head around the door and Stiles looked up from the computer screen. He glanced at the clock and stretched his neck. His headache was coming back.

“Hey, two hours went by quickly.” He started to stand up but Peter waved him back to his seat. “I was going over your spreadsheets for the last month.”

“Sorry I don’t have more to show you, but I think you’ll pick it up quickly enough.” He settled his hands on the back of Stiles’s neck and began to rub, gently. “Christopher told me your headaches are happening daily.”

“Yeah, he suggested magnesium daily for the migraines…Ohhh, that’s what I’m talking about. Oh yeah, that’s the good stuff. Don’t stop, that feels amazing.”

“Derek’s going to think I’m molesting you,” Peter chided, gently as he drew pain from the Omega.

“You do whatever you want to me, so long as you keep doing this too,” he moaned. “I messed up today with Chris,” he sighed. Peter went to the door. “Derek, go to the store and stop sulking,” he said as he closed it. “Tell me what happened.”

“Isaac is training with him, I even suggested that he spar with him and teach him to brawl a little bit, so he doesn’t have to use his strength to fight.”

“Why would he fight?”

“Malia told me that Isaac was a natural target. Duke said the same thing. Isaac just seems to attract trouble, and I know the feeling. If he throws someone across a room every time they get handsy, or they try to push him around, he’ll draw attention. If he knows how to fight, he can use moves without having to use his strength.”

“It’s a good idea, what was the problem?”

“There wasn’t one with that, Chris and I were getting along and chatting, and he took my pain while I was sitting on my bed. We were just talking in there, and I made a comment about not having essence for my concussion when I really needed it despite never using it when I worked at the shelter.” He put his head down on the desk. “When we were seeing each other, he…gave me some from the source after you gave me a good knock on the head. I was kinda buzzed from the pain relief and when he said he could help me out, I didn’t even think. He was standing right in front of me and his dick was right there, so I went for his belt.”

“Pavlovian response, indeed.”

“I was so embarrassed, and Isaac was standing outside. I wasn’t even thinking about how he’d feel if Chris and I messed around together with him right here. I was even encouraging them to spend more time touching each other, trying to help an Omega out, and then I almost blew it…him.”

“You poor thing.” Peter moved around the chair in front of Stiles. He lifted one leg over the younger man’s knees and straddled him with his thighs on either side as he leaned back against the edge of the desk. “Come here, you poor boy.” He pulled the chuckling Omega into a low hug and smushed Stiles’s face into his lower abdomen. “You’ve been in withdrawal without a dick to touch except your own. It’s normal for you to want to grab a nice, thick tool in your hands.”

“You’re an ass.” Stiles’s voice was muffled.

“Just trying to help,” Peter said innocently. “I can hook you up with Essence, but you might want to wait for a different batch,” he said, stepping to the side and away from Stiles. “The first few batches are mixed, and I know once it’s processed, it’s probably not a big deal…”

“But ultimately I don’t want to drink my dad’s jizz. Got it.” Stiles rubbed his face with his hand. “And yeah, I probably do need to get laid. Maybe I’ll go out with Isaac tonight when he prowls the jungle.”

“He’s not going to that trashy place is he?” Peter curled his lip in disgust. “There are far better spots he can pick if he wants to meet people.”

“He likes a few other places when he’s trolling for tail. Sometimes he likes girls, I know he doesn’t always stay here at night.”

“I don’t want him engaging in risky behavior,” Peter mused.

“I didn’t tell you to rat him out. I’ll go with him tonight and see what he does.”

“I don’t want you going out and engaging in risky behavior either.” He folded thick arms across his chest. “It’s teeming with dirty needles and dirtier people.”

“No kidding, and I’m twenty-six.” Stiles sat up straighter. “I’m a man, not a teenager, Peter. I know you like going Mama-Wolf on us, but I can look after myself.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Isaac didn’t say much about the shooting or the sparring, but he took a second shower after he got back and Derek’s head whipped around, looking towards his room before wrinkling his nose in irritation.

“Fucking kids.” Stiles said nothing but invited himself to be Isaac’s wingman for the night.

“I don’t know.” Isaac looked uncomfortable.

“Don’t want me to cramp your style, or don’t want the competition.” Stiles turned to the side and flexed his ass. “I’m an awesome dancer, and I have a cute little round ass. You probably dance like most awkwardly tall guys and have a flat little bony ass.”

“My ass is to die for.”

“You’d never guess in those baggy pants. It’s like you’re not even trying to get laid. Trust me we can work it together.” He shrugged, unless you’re saving yourself for someone, in which case, go ahead and dress like a bag lady and we’ll just go to dance. Well, one of us will dance while the other lurches awkwardly.”

“I can go,” Derek said.

“No!” they both replied. “Unless we’re going for gay. We can’t walk into a place with you without getting trampled.”

“I won’t smile, and I’ll wear ugly pants.”

“Pants won’t matter unless you wear a mask, Derek.” Isaac’s voice was sour and Derek just gave him a huge smile.

“We’re gonna have a good time tonight.”

~

Stiles and Isaac were eventually convinced by Derek that if they were cruising for Alphas, he wouldn’t cramp their style. They also had little choice since he basically dragged them out to the Camaro and threw them in. Stiles couldn’t compete with Derek if he was looking to top. The man breathed muscle and control, and as a versatile guy, he was exactly the type Stiles liked dicking him down. If the personality hadn’t been attached, he’d have made use of his proximity by now. He resigned himself to bottoming, or exchanging oral.

Isaac was Stiles’s competition and as soon as they got inside, Stiles and Isaac tried to lose the big Alpha, but he sidled up behind Stiles at the bar and reached over him to pay for the Omega’s drink. Stiles took it resentfully, and tried to ignore him, but a big palm landed on his shoulder and Derek just walked away, dragging Stiles along with him. He scowled his way over to a high top and leaned against the wall, tugging his cap down over his eyes.

“You’re cramping my style,” he said.

“You didn’t actually come to pick someone up,” Derek said. “You came to watch Isaac, and you can’t do that if you’re competing for the same dick.”

“I was actually cruising for ass, but someone _else_ is going to have his pick of peaches any moment now.”

“You can protect me,” Derek said, shrugging. He looked a little bored as he scanned the club. Isaac was already out on the floor, lurching about with more grace than Stiles had expected. They both watched as the tall Omega paired off with an older, but slighter-looking guy and headed for the bathrooms after getting handsy on the floor. Stiles stood up but Derek put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “He can handle himself in the bathroom. Plenty of people around.”

Stiles started looking around the crowd, himself, hoping that the night might not be a total loss, and spotted a dark, wiry guy with dimples. He smiled as he recognized Danny and stood up to go say hi. “Easy,” he said when Derek grabbed him, “Danny’s a friend of mine. Actually I have to pay him back for something he did for me a while back.”

“You owe him money?”

“Nope, he was looking for Essence.” Derek frowned at him. “I just need him to know what the supply chain has re-started. I’m not planning to drag you in the back and steal your cum, Dude.”

“Don’t call me Dude.” Derek looked bothered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just…don’t be long.”

“Are you okay here?” Stiles looked around. “Derek, we can go if you want. We can try another place, or go to a bar and grab some curly fries.”

“It’s okay, it’s just. It’s been a while.”

“Want me to introduce you?”

“No, he’s not my type.”

“Too gay?” Derek stopped scanning the crowd and looked back at Stiles when he said it. He relaxed visibly and smiled.

“Sorry, go ahead, I’m gonna be fine.”

“You know where Isaac is?”

“He’s getting blown in the bathroom.” He pointed behind him at the wall, behind which was the bathroom.

“How can you hear that well?”

“Practice.”

Stiles went to see Danny and gave the other man a hug. Danny introduced Stiles to his friends and Stiles pointed to his roommate Derek who gave Danny a nod and ignored the others. He and Danny stepped off to the side while his friends swarmed Derek’s table about as casually as a bunch of wolves surrounding a sheep.

“I got your text, sorry I’ve been out of town,” Danny said.

“Yeah, you still work in San Diego at that gaming company, right?”

“Right. I forgot to ask you how the Bourbon was.”

“Amazing. I think it’s one of my favorites now. But I wanted to know where you’ll be, I’ve got access to Essence again, mostly the same stock, but it’s a blend. If you have a preference, I can make a request to get single malt Alpha.”

A lot of farms used blends for a more consistent product overall and the shorter lives of the Alphas in commercial farms. It was always more expensive to do smaller batches which they jokingly referred to as a single malt.

“Mostly the same stock?” Danny raised his eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t have the Alphas anymore.”

“They’ve just been re-homed. We’re not telling people where they are, so they don’t get stolen, or activists don’t go after them again.”

“Right, makes sense. You were right about Liam, by the way. He’s producing a lot and the quality’s good for his age.” They found a quiet booth, so they didn’t have to shout. Out of the corner of his eyes, Stiles saw Isaac leave the bathroom alone and smiled as the Omega went back into the crowd of dancing bodies.

“How much do you need and how pure?”

“Regular processing is fine; it’ll need to be stored for a day or two anyway. I’d love to get about five per week. If you can set me up through the new producer, I’ll be fine. I just needed better stuff than I can find online.”

“Your first week is on the house as a thank you for looking out for me.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to. I can pay, I just hate wasting it on a bad product.” He waved a finger at his face. “I got an upper respiratory infection in February and had Bell’s Palsy, if I take Essence every few days, the inflammation keeps my face working. Doctor thinks another month or two and I can stop taking it.”

“That’s good news. I think the only time I’ve taken it was when I had a concussion. I had to wait like you till the supply started up again.”

“So your roommate?” Danny raised his eyebrows. “Haven’t seen him around here with you or Isaac.”

“Derek’s not very social.” Stiles smiled and looked over where Derek was being presented with all the finest peaches in the jungle. The guy was total twink-bait and the Omega could feel his stare from across the room. “I should go rescue him.”

“If he wants a quieter, low-key time, send him my way.”

“I will.” Stiles hugged his friend and went back to join Derek who latched onto his arm and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him and plastering Stiles’s back against his front. “You are not using me as a diaphragm,” he told the wolf. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“We should go.” As he said it, he rubbed his nose against the Omega’s neck. “Soon.”

“Or you could let one of these nice young men, or my friend Danny take you home with them.” He let Derek push him towards Isaac. The monster boner poking him in the ass was nearly as hostile as Derek’s eyebrows.

“They’re strangers.”

“Danny’s low-key, and believe me that it’s probably in both of your best interests if he swa-” Derek’s hands tightened on his neck and his belly quivered with arousal. “Not. Cool.”

“Sorry.” The Alpha started to push away through the crowd but Isaac was quicker than Stiles to react. He collared the Alpha and they wove their way through the club to the back. He was about to push past them when he felt a familiar touch on his own shoulder.

“Peter’s out there, it’s okay.” Chris wore his usual black jeans and a black t-shirt but he looked a little sharper, neater, like he wore his _good_ jeans and his _slap your balls against my forehead_ t-shirt.

“You both came to babysit?” Stiles said, groaning. “It’s like you think we’re babies.” Chris raised his eyebrows, but Stiles wasn’t having it. “I survived for years without your protection, thanks. Isaac and I aren’t helpless.” He glanced behind him. “Did you tell Derek to come here with us.” Chris put his hands up, innocently. “Peter did? How would that even seem like a good idea to anyone? Derek’s about to jump out of his skin.”

“Peter’s talking to him now, he’ll be fine. He and Isaac are going to drive him home.” He nodded at the entrance. “You want a ride home?”

“Not yet, I’ve already had two hot Alphas who I know can fuck like animals dangle their tackle in my face today without getting any. I’m sucking somebody’s dick tonight. Seriously, I don’t care who.” Stiles looked around and saw a douchey looking frat guy standing a few feet away looking uncomfortable and like he didn’t want to be recognized. “Oh, I can get him out to the alley in about five seconds.” He reached out to tap the guy on the shoulder, but strong fingers wrapped around his waist and hard blue eyes bored into his from over the same, benign smile as always.

The two men didn’t talk, as Chris gave his ticket to the valet. Peter had driven the Camaro back, so they were alone. Stiles didn’t know if Chris was just cock-blocking him to protect him from a casual encounter, but he almost hoped he was. Isaac was hot for Chris and the way Chris reacted to the Omega it was not unrequited. On the other hand, Chris was very unlikely to make a move on Isaac because of many reasons, and Stiles felt it was wrong to waste good dick. He wasn’t going to be tacky and bring up another man while they were together, though, but once Stiles was buckled in, he began to gripe.

“Come on, that guy wasn’t what you need,” Chris countered the Omega’s whines. “He was a closet case who epitomizes everything you hate about closeted cases.”

“It would’ve been so easy.”

“Since when don’t you like a challenge?” Chris asked as he pulled into the automatic car wash. Stiles stared as Chris swiped his card and the large doors started to rise. “I want you, Stiles, I’ve never stopped. I also know you want Peter and the feeling is mutual between all three of us. Your heat was something special, but things like that can’t happen between two Alphas. They’re not supposed to, but they did anyway. We have a unique opportunity that Peter and I would like to explore. If you’re willing to try with us, we might have a chance of making something work. We came here tonight hoping to see you, but Derek started to go into rut.”

“That’s what happened?”

“Yeah, but he’ll be fine.” Chris started to pull forward. “Peter and I care for each other a lot, but we rub each other the wrong way more often than we do the right way.”

“I vaguely remember you saying something about a buffer.”

“Yes, and we’re both into you as individuals and together. You call the shots, but you don’t need to feel like you owe us anything. Peter and I are adults, if we argue most of the time and then fuck each other through the carpet once a month, it’ll be like when we were young again, it’s not your responsibility to hold us together.”

“I know the timing sucks to ask this, but Isaac-”

“Has a little crush right now. He’s barely more than a boy, and that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m his friend and mentor, nothing else.” He put the car in neutral and let the SUV get pulled into the bay as the undercarriage got washed. “Peter’s unfortunately going to be busy tonight with Derek, but I want you to come back to the house with me and spend the night. Do you want to?”

“What about Allison?”

“Allison moved out. What I do with my own time is my business. I’ve told her that if you decide to give me a chance, we will tall her if and when there is something significant to tell, and she is to stay out of it until then.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“Yes, are you?”

Stiles answered by going for the man’s belt; Chris got the deluxe wash, so he had some time. Once he had the tight jeans open, he was over the console with his face buried in the hunter’s lap. He forgot how good Chris tasted and how hot and hard he felt when filling his mouth. The older man forced Stiles up onto his knees so he could unfasten the Omega’s pants and shove a hand down the back of his underwear. He plunged two fingers inside the Omega’s dripping hole and fucked him with his thick digits while he was being sucked. “I want to fuck your mouth, Stiles.”

“Okay,” the Omega answered, pulling off with a pop, “But you’d better be ready to pound me through the carpet when we get to your house, because I’ve been missing this.”

“I plan,” he said, wrapping both arms around Stiles’s neck and shoulders, pinning his head above his cock, “to pound you through several flat surfaces. I haven’t had you all to myself in far too long.” He pushed up carefully, so Stiles could adjust the angle of his head. It felt amazing to have impossibly strong arms holding him with his ass up in the air and exposed, unable to move, while he had his face fucked. “Don’t move, and swallow every drop, Boy.”

Stiles whimpered and then his mouth was getting hammered. Chris was going wild and Stiles thought the scent of another rutting Alpha might’ve made him jealous. He moaned and whined and sucked as well as he could, trying not to grind on the upholstery as Chris grunted and made noises of his own. He was louder than usual, bring drown out by the machines and the sound of pounding water. “Yes, Fuck yes. Take it, just keep taking it like that.” He came with a groan and Stiles sucked frantically to keep it all in his mouth. The doors opened up again as he scrambled back into his seat. Chris started the engine, calmly, with his still half-hard dick sticking up.

“Let me just get that.” Stiles tucked him away just as they pulled into the street. He swore that Chris was driving slower than usual, but waited patiently as he pulled into the garage. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, adjusting his shorts where they were sticking to him now and waited while Chris came around the car to let him into the house.

The alarm was beeping when the hunter opened the door and he paused to punch in the code and re-arm the system. Despite knowing what was coming, Stiles was still surprised when he was flung down onto the floor in the hallway. He clawed at the carpet runner as he was dragged backwards on his stomach and Chris yanked his pants open and down over his ass.

“You’re min till morning,” Chris growled with a hard edge to his voice. “You come in here stinking like another Alpha. A _younger_ Alpha, and you think I won’t notice?” Stiles shivered at the tasty little role-play.

“We were just having a drink, he’s just my roommate.”

“He sleeps in your bed,” Chris growled and held him open to feast on his hole. The Omega was the one howling in a moment when the Alpha’s lips and tongue went to town on him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was lying about the bed. Please forgive me, _Alpha_.” He pushed back frantically against the other man’s mouth, flexing his hips, knees, even ankles as the pleasure built inside him.

“Shut up, Omega. Take your punishment like a _good boy_.” Stiles heard the clinking of the man’s belt as he unfastened it and felt more slick slide out of him. He pushed his face into the carpet and arched his back, tilting his ass up. He felt the heat of the Alpha’s body before he was covered by him. A hand gripped his hip while another guided the tip of the massive organ to his entrance and pushed it past the slick entrance. He trembled with anticipation as Chris locked an arm around his neck and another around his shoulders, trapping his upper arms at his sides, but also taking the weight of their combined bodies off Stiles’s elbows.

“Make me take every inch of you,” Stiles breathed as he pushed back to try and get more of him inside. “Make me take it so hard, _Alpha_.” He felt Chris squeeze a little tighter and then pushed in to the hilt in one thrust. Despite the foreplay, it had been a while for Stiles and when he got to that middle thick part of Chris, he let out a whine, but the Alpha kept going until he was balls-deep. “Fuck,” Stiles gasped as the alpha started to move. He pounded hard and fast, bracing his knees and just using his hips to rail the Omega’s ass.

Stiles was overwhelmed with sensation but tightly anchored by Chris’s grip on him. He was held, he was safe, he was Chris’s to pound, to take apart, and to keep safe. His eyes rolled back in his head as he came hard. The climax merely sharpened the sensations of the organ sawing at his insides as he tightened up with curled toes and fisted hands. He heard Chris cry out loudly and slam into him, shooting his load into his Boy. They both panted for breath, but the werewolf regained his wind first.

Stiles groaned as Chris untangled their limbs and dragged his- _still quite thick and hard thank you_ \- cock out of the Omega’s ass. He could feel his ass clenching and spasming in a strange way and carefully drew his underwear up and over his ass as the hunter pulled his own pants up.

“I hope whatever you detail your car with can be used on carpets,” he said, breathlessly as he lifted himself out of the puddle of come on the floor. “Otherwise all the wolves will give me that weird look when they walk into your house.” He heard Chris chuckling. “Seriously, how do you not react when there’s a giant sign everywhere saying whose done what on each piece of furniture?”

“You get used to it.” Chris’s voice was a lazy purr and he hauled the Omega into his arms, rubbing his face in his Boy’s neck.

“It’ll be like a chalk outline, this time. ‘Here lieth the spot where Stiles’s ass was murdered by Chris’s monster unit,’ and all that.”

“I think there’s some life in it yet.” He kissed and fondled Stiles before throwing the Omega over his shoulder and carrying him up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Once more into the breach?”

“At least twice.”


	2. When we were young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Peter and Chris. Peter is underage, Chris is several years older.  
> Trigger warnings at end of chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see end notes for warnings

Chris went to the bathroom for several minutes and then came back, waking Stiles from his light doze as he slid back in beside him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t control my emotions when you came over,” Stiles said. He was sprawled in the hunter’s bed while staring at the ceiling. “It felt like I was trapped in my own head and was stuck watching myself lash out at everyone.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I was completely selfish of me to pursue you the way I did, it still is.”

“Why?”

“We don’t share the same peer group or level of experiences.”

“No, I mean why did you pursue me? Or why did you pursue me when you did? With all the reasons you ghosted me, and pushed me away, what ultimately led you to walk up to me in Vegas?”

“Thinking with my dick.”

“It’s a lot of thought and effort. What made you think I’d be open to the idea? You said you saw me checking you out and knew I got excited when we talked that time, but that’s a bit of a chance.” He picked up his head from Chris’s shoulder and looked at the older man. I’m just trying to figure out how you think.”

“Do you doubt the ability of my dick to override my logic?”

“You seem like such a disciplined man, with all the objections you raised, and your sister and father. I guess the timing is what I question. Why then?”

“I was lonely,” Chris rolled onto his side and ran a finger down Stiles’s chest. “There was someone always watching me, either Kate because she was constantly trying to catch me doing something she could gloat about, or my father trying to find some weakness to exploit. Work was okay, but not ultimately fulfilling. I also had the feral toxin to worry about, so I think everything may have been building up for a while. I saw more of you and the time we spent together made me feel a little more relaxed, even though we didn’t interact with each other directly.”

“What do you mean you felt better?”

“I don’t think you realize the effect you have on people, Stiles. You have an intense energy that draws people to you, and the kind of enthusiasm that’s infectious. It’s just enjoyable to be in the same room with you, even if we’re not interacting.”

“I think my teachers described it differently.”

“Their loss.” Chris moved over Stiles, so he was lying between the younger man’s legs. “I was always afraid to approach you because I didn’t know what to say, or how to answer questions if someone asked me why I wanted to hang out with you socially. When I heard about your trip to Vegas and how closely it was to mine, I just wanted to know what it would be like for us to be alone.” He kissed the Omega’s chest and moved down to his belly where he nuzzled and nibbled at him. “I was sweating bullets that you’d have already made plans or that someone had already picked you up, and I’d have gotten my hopes up for nothing.”

“You had hopes?”

“I told myself I’d get a drink with you or dinner and we’d have a chance to talk. I just meant to use carrying your stuff as an excuse to invite you out. And then you brought up the Bourbon, and then you kissed me.” He took Stiles’s rapidly-filling cock into his mouth and gave a few sucks. “I didn’t expect you to be so direct. I kept thinking you were going to get snarky about me being Allison’s father, and that it was too weird, but you didn’t.”

“No I just thought you were another closet case, which you kinda are, and you were too cheap to get a hooker like everyone else who comes to Vegas.” He moaned when Chris sucked him until he was fully-hard before popping off and moving up his body. “And then you made me your Good Boy, and it was amazing.” Chris straddled Stiles’s hips and the Omega groaned and dropped his head back to the mattress as he felt the tip of his dick positioned at the hunter’s tight, slick ass. “When did you prep?”

“When I was in the bathroom.” He blew out a breath and bore down as Stiles thrust up into him. “You feel really good.”

“So do you.” Chris was slick, hot and very tight. He shifted, getting himself comfortable and then started to rise and fall, riding Stiles as he stared down into the Omega’s face. Being more of a bottom than a top, Stiles had a pretty good idea of how to make his lover feel good, but Chris had done this more often. “Do you usually power-bottom?”

“You can do whatever you want.”

Stiles rolled them both over and brought Chris’s legs to his elbows, guessing he might not be as flexible as the Omega and gave a few slow, test thrusts until he was aiming for the older man’s prostate. Chris started to flush with color and he jerked a few times when Stiles’s aim was good. He started to stroke himself in time with the thrusting and soon Stiles was arching his back and coming inside him as he spurted across his own stomach.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” Stiles panted, it was like being a teenager all over again, but you feel amazing.”

“Everything takes practice.”

“With you and Peter…”

“We take turns.”

“How did things start for you?”

“It wasn’t a pleasant time in my life. Although in retrospect Peter and I both look at that time fondly, I’m not proud of how I acted. Peter’s ability to heal and take punishment shouldn’t have excused what we did at the time.”

“Tell me what it was like for you.”

Flashback:

Chris lay miserable in his bedroom at his parents’ house and stared at the fan in his window. August was the worst time for rut, in his opinion. It was sticky and hot, and it made you want to touch other people who were also sticky and hot. His parents had taken Kate away because they were merciful. Kate was eight and completely intolerable. She never left him alone and always got into his stuff. He was constantly catching her in his room, going through his desk, and hiding behind the couch eavesdropping when he was on a phone call.

Chris’s mother had wanted his father and Kate in France for his rut and it was thankfully fairly easy to predict. He was grateful that he’d at least have isolation. As a wolf, everything was amplified and he could no longer tolerate noise, touch, and smells the way he usually did. He thought about one of the girls he’d met on retreat. Hunters liked to get together in a group and show off their kids and drink and tell stories and relive their own youths. It gave the younger generations of the more prominent families a chance to get to know each other and test out their individual dynamics. 

Peak’s Island, Maine had been the location of the retreat, but on the first weekend, the parents went to nearby Diamond Island for a posh lobster boil on the beach. It served to give the teenagers a chance to test out the bonds they’d been building during the week. In retrospect, it had seemed to Chris that the parents were pimping out their kids in the hope that they’d find someone they didn’t mind sleeping with for the next few decades.

Chris had met Victoria and he’d watched her quietly through demonstrations and team-building exercises. He didn’t show off loudly or get too braggy, but he knew she’d been watching him too. His parents had rented a nice RV like most families and he’d been reading in the back, waiting for dark before going off to cause trouble with his friends. Victoria had knocked before walking in, closed the door to the stuffy bunkroom, and dropped to her knees to blow him. Like everything else, she was competent and focused when she’d sucked him. He was secretly pleased that he managed to not look smug when she put her hand down his pants for the first time.

Chris had been surprised when she’d guided his hand to her hair and encouraged him to push her head down. He hoped he hadn’t come too fast, but she’d crawled up on the bed with him, ridden his face, and then put a condom on him and let him roll her over and take her from behind. Only afterward, when getting rid of the condom, did he notice the blood.

“I didn’t know it was your first time,” he’d said.

“We’re not supposed to tell.” The phrase had stuck with him after she’d left and he started to understand more about the power dynamic in the hunter community.

Chris jerked off thinking about Victoria in the narrow bunk, but hated the feeling of how inadequate the climax was. It just made everything feel worse. He cleaned up and went for a run through the woods. He wished he was in Beacon Hills, Talia was Alpha now, and he got along fairly well with her. He’d called her to check in and told her about hitting his rut so he wouldn’t be able to visit. She’d sympathized and told him she had a few herbal remedies that her emissary might be able to make for him.

The summer visits he’d made to Beacon Hills had been some of the best times he’d ever had. It didn’t take a genius to know that being away from his family had made all the difference. He was on the other side of Sacramento and he knew that the Hales would be getting ready for their last big blowout of the summer. He wasn’t fit to be around company, so he was stuck at home. Peter would be there, and that would make it intolerable.

Chris wasn’t sure why the boy had fixated on him, but Peter was the Hale pack’s own lesson in patience and restraint. You needed both in order to get through a day with the infuriating pain in the ass. He hated the cocky little shit and his smug face, and how bold and invasive he’d gotten last summer.

At fifteen, Peter was filling out his frame and went from average-sized, average build, and an over-sized jaw to looking a bit more like what he’d become when he grew up. He’d obviously discovered girls because the first few days of the previous summer had been spent camping out and Peter had told some of his younger cousins a few colorful stories about games of spin-the-bottle, passing notes, and under-bleacher romance that mostly consisted of a lot of staring at feet and eventually some kissing and over-the-clothes groping.

Chris had thought that Peter was finally over his obsession with the hunter and would stop following him around, but it had only intensified and Chris had realized that despite his discussions about what the inside of a girl’s vagina felt like, that he was trying to do more than impress him. He had been trying to make him jealous. Chris had ignored Peter as much as possible despite the younger boy’s ability to find an excuse to tackle him nearly daily. The first time he’d showed up naked in Chris’s sleeping bag, the hunter had thrown him against a tree and told him to keep his hands to himself.

Peter had been even more determined after that and Chris had eventually gone to Talia to gripe. She’d sympathized, but trying to order Peter around was counter-productive because of their ages and the fact that she was his sister. She’d suggested throwing him off a roof and told Chris he had her permission to do anything to Peter that would heal within a day if Peter didn’t listen to him.

This had been the first year Chris hadn’t seen the Hales during the summer. He’d seen them during winter break, but he’d had an internship with the Los Angeles branch of Argent Arms as soon as he’d finished school. He and Talia had exchanged a few phone calls and she’d been sad she wouldn’t see him, but was glad he was doing well. She’d caught him up on the rest of the family and had sent him some photos from the previous summer. He’d hidden them in his trunk but enjoyed remembering.

Chris ambled downstairs, putting on some classical music to try and stay calm, and put in a load of laundry. He had just put in the detergent when he heard a car come up the driveway. He was up at the top of the stairs jus as Peter Hale walked into the house.

“What?” he snarled, wanting to tear the head off something small and vulnerable.

“My sister said you’d be expecting me.” Peter looked bigger, older, and bored. “She sent something to make the week a little less awful.” He gave a crooked smile. “Good to see you, Man.” He strode forward and held out his hand. Chris relaxed and shook it. “How’s the internship?”

“Boring. It’s mostly paperwork.”

“This where the mugs are?” he pointed to a cupboard and Chris nodded. “I’ve had to make this about a dizen time in the last month. My sister’s emissary is going out of town and she decided I’m the one who should be in charge of making tea.”

“That what it is?” Chris liked this Peter; he was personable without being invasive, but it was still only a minute into their conversation.

“It’s specific about the directions, I’ll need to boil some water, why don’t you go take a shower. I’ll write down the directions and have it ready in about ten minutes. You should know how it’s supposed to look, smell, and taste so you’ll know if you mess it up.”

“Okay.” Chris turned around and went upstairs, but kept looking over his shoulder, expecting Peter to rush up behind him. He took a quick, cold shower and dressed in clean shorts and a t-shirt. Peter was pouring the hot water into a mug.

“Just in time, sorry about the smell, but it fades fast.” He stepped to the side so Chris could see the ugly brown leaves turning the water into an ugly brown tea. It had a sharp, organic smell like moss and citrus with a touch of acetone.

“That’s awful.”

“No kidding, there’s a small amount of a non-lethal wolfsbane in it. It attacks the intestines, irritating them enough so that the herbs will soak in, and it’s have a longer effect.” Chris noticed how blue Peter’s eyes looked in his v-neck shirt. He had a spoon beside him but didn’t stir the cup. “Think of it like Turkish coffee, don’t stir it, just let the leaves settle to the bottom. It’ll be strong enough.” He wrote down a few notes on the pad of paper he had beside him. “Drink it when it’s just cool to get down. It tastes worse and it’s more painful as it cools. When you throw it away, make sure you put it in plastic. It can be harmful to any pets, or you can end up with dead crows if they get into your garbage.”

“Thanks,” Chris said. “How’s your schedule this fall?”

“Chemistry with Harris.”

“I’ve heard your sister talk about him.” Chris blew on the cup, but it was still a little too hot. “Sounds like a tool. You’ve been making this?”

“With so many of us living together we have to make them as short as possible. This cuts the duration in half.”

“Nice.” Chris forced down a few swallows, regretting it when his mouth didn’t heal instantly from the scalding hot drink. “Tastes like ass.”

“You’d know?” He looked up and Peter was smirking. “You didn’t seem like a giver, but rimming? I’m impressed.”

“What are the side-effects?” he asked, choking down the rest of the cup and ignoring the question.

“I wrote everything down. Take it three times a day for the first two days. That’s it. Three big spoonfuls with boiling water, steep for at least six minutes. Don’t stir. It’s really condensing your rut, so it’ll be shorter, make whatever action you take more effective, but more intense, too. If you have trouble sleeping, try cardio at least an hour or two before you go to bed. She also said if you feel swelling in your tonsils to call her.”

“Thanks. So side effects are just intensifying the hearing and touch sensitivity?”

“And you’ll be horny as fuck.” Peter smirked again and Chris got the feeling he’d walked into a trap.

“What have you done, Peter?”

“I gave you the tea my sister makes me brew for when we’re in heat or rut. Oh, but you should have a partner, preferably one of us, because of how intense the symptoms will be. Lucky for you, I’m available.”

“Get out.” Chris walked away from Peter and went to the phone. He picked up the cordless receiver and dialed Talia’s number.

“Talia rented a party boat and took everyone out on the lake. She won’t be back for a while, so she asked me to make sure I was available to you, just in case.” Peter

“Why’re you doing this?” Chris hung up the phone and stomped away, with the younger man on his heels.

“What happens in rut, stays in rut, Chris-to-pher,” he replied, dragging out the older teen’s name.

“You’re too young to partner someone, you’re just a kid.” He rolled his eyes, “and I wouldn’t pick you anyway, because I like girls, and I can’t stand you.”

“Rut has nothing to do with relationships. I fuck people I don’t like all the time. In fact, half of them I fuck _because_ I don’t like them.”

“Wow, that sounds like exactly the kind of person I’d want to spend my rut with. Get out, Peter, or I’ll throw you out.”

“I’m not as easy to _dominate_ , as I was last year.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I’d like to see you try.” He grinned again and tucked his chin.

“I’m not smashing up my parents’ house because you’re feeling like being a pest. Go away Peter or I’ll call the cops and tell them I’ve found someone breaking in, and you can sit at the police station till Talia gets back from the lake.” He picked up the cordless receiver, but Peter dove for the cord and ripped it out of the wall, damaging the piece that plugged into the wall jack. “Asshole.” He dashed for the stairs and his bedroom, but Peter bit his ankle, making him trip, and leapt past him, going into Chris’s room first.

Chris didn’t try to stop Peter from wrecking his own phone, instead he sprinted for his parents’ room. He was hobbling on his ankle, which was taking extra time to heal because of the wolfsbane, and of course, Peter rugby tackled him, stepped on his head and beat him to the phone on his mother’s side of the bed. The only other phone was in his mother’s office, which was locked, and he wasn’t about to break in unless absolutely necessary, because he’d have to explain. He grabbed Peter by the hair, twisted one of his arms behind his back, and pinned him down on the bed.

“That’s more like it,” Peter laughed.

Chris just snarled and hauled him out of the room. His ankle was feeling better now, and he guessed that the healing was delayed only briefly. He threw the younger man out the front door and down the steps.

“Stay away from me, Peter, I don’t want you. I’m not interested in your games.” Chris realized his mistake as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He’d ignored Peter or rejected him with vague comments about being annoying, but he’d never outright said that he didn’t want Peter because the younger wolf would hear the lie in his voice.

“Oh, that’s music to my ears,” he said, picking himself up out of the dirt. “All this time I thought it was me.”

“Now who’s lying?” Chris walked down the steps. “When your standards drop in rut, it’s not an indication of what you’d want if you were in your right mind. I’d rather suffer alone than have to listen to you talk.”

“So shut my mouth, Chris.” Peter was on his knees. “I know what kind of heat you’re packing, and I can’t wait to see it hard and throbbing. It must look dangerous when it’s flushed and turgid.”

“If I had fifty cents. Turgid? Seriously? You think that’s going to turn me on?”

“Swollen, as if filled with fluid,” Peter said, defensively, “it’s accurate.”

“You’re not very good at talking dirty, and it sure as Hell isn’t going to work on me when your voice is one of the things I find most annoying. It’s so high-pitched, have you even hit puberty?”

“Why don’t you check?”

“That would involve touching you, and I don’t want-” He paused as Peter snickered. “I don’t like having you around. How’s that?”

“Maybe you should go take a nap.” Peter stood up and swung a set of house keys around one finger. “I’ll come back and check on you later.”

“My keys!” Chris was filled with rage as Peter jogged backwards, laughing playfully.

“Catch me if you can, Christopher!” He turned and ran full tilt into the trees. The Argent home was in a secluded area surrounded by woods, so it was unlikely that they’d run into anyone for a good mile or two in the direction Peter was heading. The little shit knew it.

Chris was half-tempted to take the car to the hardware store, get new cords for the phones and locks for the doors. He could tell his father that he’d lost his house keys and had decided to upgrade their locks, but he dreaded what Peter might do in the meantime, and what would happen if he saw anyone out there when he was so valatile. Just the smell of the younger wolf’s arousal had been enough to set him off in his over-sensitive state. He came out of his stupor and chased after the younger wolf, tracking him by scent since a brief head start was all Peter had needed to get a significant lead.

The hunter tracked through the woods and sneered at where Peter had paused to piss on a tree. Just on principle, he pissed over the same spot. He should jam Peter’s face into the tree trunk there. He’d like to slam him up against it until the bark dug into his bare skin while…

“No.” Chris caught himself and focused. “Keys.” He needed to get the keys back and he needed to keep them in mind as the goal, not the wolf. _The sixteen-year-old wolf_. His brain helpfully reminded. He thought about his father and what Gerard would do if he came home from France and found Chris in bed with Peter, or any other guy for that matter. The old man had some conservative and liberal views, but although he fully supported women as the leaders in hunter society, he looked down on homosexual men in that context as weaker and inferior because they wouldn’t be looking in the right direction for leadership.

Chris knew his father had expectations, so Chris had learned to stay quiet. He didn’t make male friends at school, he didn’t seek out study partners, and he pursued and slept with girls. He’d seen the pride in his father’s face when he’d missed curfew the evening of a classmate’s birthday party and came home stinking of _Electric Youth_ and _Malibu Musk_ and sporting a hickey on his neck. He’d liked the normal feeling of getting advice on women from his dad. He didn’t mention his attraction to men to his mother, not even when he’d lain near death in Hale territory after being attacked by a wild Were.

Pounding through the woods that were familiar, Chris took a shortcut to cut Peter off near the edge of a pond. He caught sight of the younger wolf heading to a clearing and put on a burst of speed. No matter that he was bitten instead of born into it, Talia herself had proclaimed that Chris was the fastest wolf in the pack.

Peter went down with a grunt when Chris threw him to the ground. The hunter kicked him in the face and went for his pockets. He took out Peter’s wallet, a condom, and a travel-sized tube of lube, but no keys.

“While you took your shortcut,” Peter said, spitting out some blood and wiping it off his chin with the back of his fist, “I took the liberty of stashing your keys.”

“You want me to kick your head in?”

“No, I want you to fight me for it,” he said with a bloody grin. “If you can manage to pin me three times, I’ll tell you where it is. If you can’t, I keep the keys.”

“That’s it?” Chris was doubtful. “You’ll go away after that and leave me alone?”

“Yes.”

“Why now?” He looked around, trying to figure out if there was some kind of hidden trap. “Did you send someone else into the house?”

“Nope. It’s just us. He stood up and peeled off his warm-up jacket.

“What’s the catch?”

“Grecian-style wrestling.”

“I’m not rolling naked on the ground with you,” he said. “Forget it.”

“You know you won’t be able to resist me once we’re pushing each other down on the ground.” He kicked off his sneakers and removed his socks. “I’m planning to suck and finger everything I can.”

“Why can’t you let this go?” Chris knew he sounded whiny, but he was just so sick of Peter’s constant harassment.

“Because you hate us,” he said, darkly. “You’ve never accepted what you are, and you still think you’re better than we are.”

“I _am_ one of you.”

“You’re a homophobic hunter who liked guys and got turned into a Werewolf. It must be a nightmare for you.”

“You hate humans?” Chris took off his own hoodie and shoes. “You said you fuck people because you hate them, is that it?”

“I don’t hate humans,” Peter said. “I hate hypocrites and I hate hunters because you’re all jealous of us.” The ugly sneer on the young wolf’s face was different than his usual smugness. Chris realized that this was the real Peter. The vicious, nasty parts of the boy who was constantly teasing and laughing and smiling. His heart held a lot of hate, and Chris was going to enjoy beating him. “I fuck the girls who think they’re too good for me, I fuck the ones who pretend they’re good little girls. They claim that they’ll wait for marriage, but eventually I get them on their knees, begging to blow me in the church parking lot.”

“You’re the one with issues, Peter. Not me.”

“The football players who date the cheerleaders but stink of lust when we’re all in the showers together. The sweet little preacher’s kid who pretends he thinks it’s an abomination only to ride me in the woods out on the running trails and begs me to rail his tight little ass.” Both of them had stripped down to their underwear, and Peter was already bulging in the front of his shorts. Chris was too, but he was in rut and had just taken something that would only make it worse.

“You like taking it too?” Chris asked with a sneer. “You like getting your ass reamed by some sweaty jock, or some nasty biker? I’ll bet you go waiting at glory holes to suck every dirty dick that goes in there.”

“I’ve only topped so far, but maybe you’ll change that today, Christopher.” The sly smile was back. “Whether I win or lose the fight, I’ll win the war. This ends with me fucking you, or you fucking me.” Peter lunged forward with a growl and grabbed Chris around the waist, taking him down to the ground.

The two teens struggled for dominance. Chris was older, stronger, and hand longer limbs, but Peter was not only a dirty fighter, but he was an experienced wrestler. They grappled and yanked at each other, trying to throw each other down and ended up rolling around in the grass getting dirty and stained for several minutes before they ended up with limbs locked and entwined, each straining to break the other’s grip. Then Peter released Chris’s leg and slipped his hand inside the older boy’s underwear and started jerking his hard cock. His grip was tight and he stroked him quickly.

“Ah! Stop!” Chris scrambled to protect his junk but got his legs yanked up in the air. Peter rolled him onto his back and put a knee under his chin and folded the older boy in half, parting his long legs on either side of Peter’s torso. He shredded Chris’s underwear and pulled his cheeks apart, burying his face between them and starting to lick. The sensations warred through his body. Both pleasurable and painful where he was being restrained. As worldly as he liked to think of himself, he’d never thought this would be hot. He couldn’t get leverage to twist or buck Peter off with his legs hanging almost to the ground. He did the only thing he could think of.

“Fuck!” Peter moaned when Chris tore off his shorts and started jerking his dick. Chris used the distraction to flip the rest of the way over and pin Peter with his knees on the younger man’s shoulders.

“That’s one,” he panted, when Peter slapped his hand down on the ground. He got up and backed away, feeling the odd wetness between his cheeks. He was rigid and throbbing now, but so was Peter. He had to admit, for a sixteen-year-old, Peter was hung too. Not as thick as Chris, but longer, and definitely thicker than average.

“After one taste, I can’t wait to shove my cock in that sweet ass.”

“You’re sick, you even lubed yourself before you came to the house. I could smell it, but I thought you’d just jerked off.”

“I wanted to be prepared.” He gestured to where his clothes were. “You can feel free to use it, I’ll wait if you want to prep yourself too. Once I pin you down, you’ll be lucky to get spit.”

“Not happening, but hey, since I’m in rut, and you’re so willing, why don’t you just suck my dick. You’re so desperate for it, I’ll let you do that.” He gave his dick a few pumps. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being on your knees, begging and whining like a dog.” He panted with his tongue out and his hands tucked against his chest, taunting the wolf. It worked and Peter got angry, but Chris expected him to just go back to grappling. Instead, Peter spun and kicked him back into a tree.

Slamming into the big oak made Chris’s head spin and knocked the wind out of him, but he dove sideways as Peter charged, but he wasn’t fast enough, and the younger wolf hooked his finger in the side of his mouth and yanked him into a headlock. He forced Chris off-balance and to his knees. He ignored the two punches to the abdomen and pushed his cock between Chris’s lips.

“Biting is cheating,” he hissed and shoved in twice, pulling out after the third time when Chris gagged. It had been the first time Chris had a cock in his mouth. Dirt and bitter pre-come stuck to his tongue and he gagged as Peter went so deep he hit the back of his throat. He gasped for breath and missed seeing Peter’s fist flying towards his face. The punch landed and Chris’s head rang. He rolled and started to crawl in the other direction but felt Peter’s hand on his ankle. The younger boy yanked him back and made him fall face-first into the ground and he bounced his already-sore chin there, making him see stars.

Peter straddled Chris’s upper thighs and he heard the younger man spit into his palm. He was afraid then, of what the wolf wanted to do and tried to roll over, but got his own arm twisted behind him the way he’d done to Peter at the house.

“Let me know how it feels,” Peter snarled as he pushed a spit-wet finger between Chris’s cheeks and pushed it through the tight pucker. He shoved hard and it burned at the delicate tissue. Chris grunted but he bit back a yelp of pain as Peter drew it out, spit and pushed it in again.

“No.” Chris gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to get fucked by a filthy dog. He wasn’t going to let that happen, no matter what. He was an Argent, and Argents never let pain cage them in or be their limit. He pushed his hips up, making peter tumble towards his head. He barely made a sound when Peter dislocated his shoulder by falling on it. Dizzy with pain and rage, he stood and stomped on the younger boy’s clavicle and yanked his shoulder back into place.

Chris saw everything through a red veil of rage. He was furious at Peter for just never leaving him alone. Why couldn’t he just take rejection? Why did he have to keep pushing? What did it matter if Chris wanted him? He didn’t plan to do anything about it, and that was his choice. Now Peter had to come and use his rut against him, and now? Now he was going to pay! He kicked Peter over onto his belly and dropped down over him.

“Get off!” Peter grunted, making a swing with his good arm, But Chris was done waiting. He was so hard, and the boy had been teasing him for so long. And now he’d pushed too far. He notched the head of his cock at the outside of the boy’s greasy hole. Whatever he’d used for lube was thick and so slick he got the head halfway in before meeting resistance. He punched Peter in the face when the younger teen reared up, not willing to listen to him talk. He covered him and gripped his hair with one hand while twisting his good arm behind him.

“Shut up and take the fucking you’ve been begging for, Dog!” He pushed in hard and felt Peter’s whole body tense up as he grunted against the invasion.

Chris had never fucked without a condom, not matter how uncomfortable they were, but the sensation of that blood-hot tunnel, slick with whatever miracle oil Peter had put there, squeezing him tightly had him panting and groaning and trying not to come. He bullied his cock all the way in and looked at Peter’s white-knuckled fist pressing into the ground. “You’re gonna smell like my bitch, Hale,” he hissed and started rolling his hips.

Peter grunted, and the both smelled blood, but Chris didn’t stop. Peter deserved this, he _should_ be the one Chris used to slake his rut. He’d offered and cajoled and teased and now that his dick was inside of him, Chris didn’t think he’d ever get enough. He was lifting up and slamming his hips back down again, getting squeezed and released by that hot channel. He wanted to lick and bite at the body beneath him, the one submitting so sweetly now that he had him. The hunter held back, his brain reminded him who he was taking and recoiled from displays of affection. He was a vessel, nothing else.

Chris came with a groan and emptied his load into Peter’s ass. As soon as the last twitches were gone, he stood up and looked at the boy on the ground. Pink-tinged come seeped out along with traces of lube and made the crack of his ass shiny. His pale skin was mottled with marks that were rapidly healing. He could hear the younger wolf breathing, but he didn’t move and Chris wondered if he was in shock or something. He started to tremble and instinctively, Chris squatted down and reached for his shoulder. That’s when he realized Peter was laughing. He pulled his hand back and walked away, picking up his clothes and pulling them on; he stuffed his torn underwear into his pocket and pulled on his shoes. He hated Peter, because he understood now. They had a heat-bond.

“I’m feeling a bit hungry, how about you?”

“Pizza.” He didn’t offer it, or ask him if he wanted any, or indicate that he had some back at home in the freezer that he could heat up for them… “Fuck.”

“Maybe later,” Peter drawled, lazily in the grass. “The keys are hanging on a branch of the tree I marked.”

Chris turned and left without a word.

~

“Sounds like you hated yourself.” Stiles slid out of bed.

“That’s putting it mildly.” Chris turned and watched the slender Omega walk to the bathroom. “Shower?”

“Eventually.”

“Want company?”

“Eventually. I’ll open the door before I get in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warnings for dubious and non-consensual sex and sexual activities. 
> 
> Peter uses coercion, harassment, and dishonesty to trick and force Chris into sexual play that Chris doesn't want in order to provoke him into having sex and forming a heat-bond with him. Chris is violent and injures Peter during sex.


	3. A new normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some catching up, a little voyeurism, and checking in on a potential packmate.

Chris stared at the ceiling as his thoughts continued to stray into the past. He wasn’t certain just what had ended the battle between them, but it hadn’t come before a lot of hate sex and plain-old fighting. There had been days when Peter had shown up at Chris’s house and his response had been to shoot him in the leg and beat the crap out of him before driving away and leaving him in the dirt. The times he _did_ give in to Peter’s advances and fuck the younger boy, he’d actually made an effort to prevent Peter from enjoying it. He didn’t try to be as deliberately rough as he was the first time, but he didn’t go out of his way for it, either.

Chris didn’t know why Peter continued to pursue him after the first few times, but his persistence eventually paid off and he’d eventually gotten the upper hand. It was the first time Chris had been fucked, he’d never had any girls interested in his ass; Peter’s finger was the first to breach him. Although the initial penetration had been painful and humiliating, Peter had been surprisingly patient and coaxed a reluctant orgasm out of him. He supposed Peter had been training him, in a way. And once Chris had some perspective on rough vs. pleasurable sodomy, he’d changed his own methods.

As teens, the two men had a steep learning curve once they’d given up the fighting part and just stuck to sneaking around. Chris attacked sex with men the same way he did everything else once he’d embraced it, he’d made it his bitch. He’d held Peter down for over an hour trying to master his oral skills. He heard his phone vibrate and answered.

“How is he?” he asked.

“He’s sleeping now. Isaac was right that he’d been hovering at the edge of rut for a good two weeks or more. I think he was holding it back, and really afraid of losing control. I guess he kept cajoling his way into Stiles’s bed at night because he reminded him of being in the bar where he had people controlling him all the time. In a way, it was probably comforting to not have to make decisions.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Isaac has good instincts. I wish he’d said something to me instead of just trying to make Derek jealous.”

“Is he helping Derek through his rut?”

“Not the way you think. Isaac and Stiles were keeping him calm, I think he’d have been having panic attacks if he hadn’t been in near-constant contact with at least one Omega. Isaac insisted on going out with Stiles so Derek would have to either be alone, show his hand by tagging along, or ask me for help.”

“He’s a smart kid.”

“He’s not a kid, Christopher, but you’re right, he’s not exactly a grown-up either. Eventually, he might need some spiritual intervention.”

“Are we still calling it that?”

“It’s the closest I’ve ever been to a religion. Where’s our Boy?”

“About to get in the shower.” Chris tried not to sound smug. “We stopped to negotiate at the car wash. He blew me so hard in there I saw stars. If he’ll do it, try and get him on his knees in an elevator or a stairwell. I think he works well under pressure.”

“So why the shower?”

“As soon as we got in the door. Didn’t even make it past the kitchen.”

“You filthy animal, Christopher.” Chris heard Peter unfastening his jeans. “Did you start it or did he?”

“I wanted to fuck his mouth in the car wash at the end, and he said he wanted me to fuck him through the floor as soon as we got to the house. He let me do what I wanted, so as soon as I re-armed the alarm system I threw him face down on the carpet runner I have in the hallway.” He heard Peter’s breath catch.

“Was he so good for you?” Peter asked, and through the phone Chris could hear the slick sound of him stroking himself. “Did he beg you for it?”

“He apologized for smelling like a rutting Alpha. I ate him out and he was so wet my beard still smells like him.”

“I wish I could suck on your face right now.”

“I’m about to wash it off when I go join Stiles for a shower in a few minutes.” Chris let his voice get smug then, but deepened it as he went on. “I kept him flat on the floor and he fought to present, he was so good. I held him down with an arm around his neck, and another around his chest. He told me to make him take every inch of me.” He could hear Peter’s breath quicken. “Every. Single. Inch.” He heard the shower turn on. “I fucked him hard and fast and he came on my carpet. We came up here to the bedroom and he fucked me a few minutes ago.”

“Fuck,” Peter gasped and grunted. “Now you’re gonna go get in the shower and he’s gonna blow you,” he whined.

“If Derek’s stable, maybe you could join us.”

“Tempting, but I need to be with Derek tonight. I’ll see you both soon.” He took a few breaths. “Have you and Stiles had a chance to really talk?”

“I apologized and told him he was right, because he was right. I also told him we both cared for him and each other independently of our feelings as a group, but that we wanted to try things out if he was willing, and if not, we’re fine.”

“What did he say?”

“His mouth was full.” They both laughed. “He’s interested in trying, but left off on vows till you get here. He did ask about us, and how we got…together.” Chris looked up as the bathroom door opened a crack.

“What a nightmare I was.” Peter could’ve tried to laugh it off as teenaged antics, but he sounded genuinely regretful. “We’ll talk again about it, but I’m both incredibly grateful that you and I ended up finding a common ground but so profoundly sorry for how it happened.”

“That’s probably what I wished I’d thought of. You’ve always been more eloquent.”

“Go take your shower, I can hear it from here.”

“See you soon.”

Chris hung up and went to the bathroom. It was just starting to steam up and he saw Stiles already under the hot water. He felt himself start to plump up and stiffen and rolled his eyes, looking down at his dick with irritation. He was pushing fifty and after three rounds of sex, he was still perking up just getting close to Stiles. It was nearly two in the morning, and he should be exhausted by now, but the Omega just kept him on his toes. He opened the door to the shower as Stiles was rinsing the suds from his hair, and turned to the hunter with a big welcoming smile.

“Hey there, did Peter call?” Chris’s chest swelled with feelings of gratitude.

“Yes.” He closed the door and walked over to Stiles in the mammoth tile room and pushed his face under the hot spray. He placed a hand on Stiles’s lower back and closed his eyes, letting the stinging spray pummel him. “Derek’s been hovering in pre-rut for a few weeks, hence his weird behavior around you. Isaac actually picked up on it.” He explained how Isaac had guessed and arranged the night out to force Derek to act.

“I wish he’d said something, but he was too busy feeling guilty about lusting after you.” Stiles gave the hunter a quick kiss. “I don’t usually like facial hair, but this is working for me.”

“Thank you.” Chris pulled Stiles into his arms. “You don’t know how grateful I am that you’re giving me a chance after how I acted. I had no right to expect this, but I’m so glad you’re here.” He gave Stiles a slow, gentle kiss. “I just wanted to say that to you when I don’t have an immediate ulterior motive.”

“This…feels ulterior.”

“I’ve had more than my fair share tonight. You can just ignore it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“It’s pretty late, we can do whatever you want in the morning. I don’t have any meetings tomorrow, not even a conference call.”

“Sounds like breakfast in bed.”

“That can be arranged.”

~

In the morning, Stiles insisted on making breakfast, letting Chris sleep in.

“You have an amazing kitchen, and I don’t usually get to play in one like that, so indulge me?”

“Sure, it’s a treat for me to sleep in.” Chris’s hair was adorably ruffled and he smushed his face in the Omega’s pillow. “Peter might call.”

~

“Good morning, sweet boy,” Peter purred in a sleepy voice. “I got your text. Does Chris know you took his picture?”

“I had it on mute, so hopefully not. I’m in his kitchen making breakfast. How’s Derek? Isaac? And how are you doing?”

“We’re okay, Malia and Kira are both staying with Melissa, Scott, and John for the duration.”

“Want me to send over a care package?” Stiles called him on face time and stuck his phone on an adjustable holder so he could chat handsfree. He mixed up batter while wearing just a pair of Chris’s shorts. Peter wolf whistled.

“What exactly is in a rut care package?”

“Does he still eat pears?”

“Yeah, loves them. Terrible sweet tooth, especially anything maple-flavored.”

“Is he a comfort food or high protein kind of guy?”

“Comfort food. Boy can put the hurt on some carbs.” Peter laughed. “No one will say no to your cooking, Stiles, but you don’t need to go to the trouble.”

“I work for you and the pack. This is what the Alpha’s assistant does, right? Pack outreach?” Peter was silent for a moment.

“Actually, yes. That would fall under the umbrella. What are you putting in the batter now?” Peter seemed invested in the cooking now. “Are those chocolate chips?”

“There was leftover chocolate from the massive chocolate bar you brought for me, so I’m chopping it up and putting it in the pancakes.”

“You’re truly sinful.”

“I’m planning to sprinkle crushed macadamia nuts on top of it with some caramel sauce.” From the background of Peter’s phone, Stiles heard a racket, but Peter began to laugh.

“Isaac and Derek are arguing in the hallway. Isaac wants you to come over and cook for us, but Derek thinks it might be a) rude, and b) he might try to mount you. Derek, I really think you’ve got better control than that, but Stiles is busy. Come in here.” Peter turned the camera so he could see Derek and Isaac. “What do you think of his idea about the care package?”

“Is it just for the rut, or is there something for ‘rut-support’?”

“Rut support definitely gets treats.” Stiles showed them the caramel sauce he was heating on the stove. “I can make salted caramels to send over, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” Derek said.

“Yes, please,” Isaac said. “Can you send over some other coffee? Peter drinks garbage.”

“Sure, anything else?” He chuckled as Peter threw something at the Omega. “I can whip up some treats this morning and swing by the market to get some pears and other things and be there around one o’clock.”

Once Peter and Stiles were ‘alone’ again, they continued to chat while flipping the pancakes. Once he had a big, fluffy pile, he finished off the caramel sauce, put the crushed macadamia nuts in a bowl and plated the breakfast along with maple bacon he pulled out from under the broiler. He stuck ‘Peter’ to the plastic tray and brought it upstairs. Chris was still in bed, but it looked like he’d been awake for a few minutes. He greeted Peter over face time and they sat down to eat breakfast as a trio. Chris nodded his agreement to Stiles’s plans with his mouth full.

Once the tray was safely placed on the floor and the phone placed where Peter could see it, Chris hit mute, so their noises wouldn’t be heard by Derek and Isaac, and started sucking Stiles’s cock. The Omega had been getting restless and hard under the blankets.

“Isaac and Derek, you’ll want to stop listening. Oh, I wish I could hear the sounds he’s making right now. I’ll bet he smells amazing. Pull all the way off, let me see how hard and red he is. Yes, just like that, you look so beautiful. God, Christopher, you’re a master at that I don’t know in whose place I’d rather be right now. Oh, when I get there the three of us will do this. Oh, keep going, faster now. Oh, I love the way his muscles are all straining to get deeper into your throat. Yes, hold him down.” He waited while Stiles recovered momentarily and then started up again. “Show me his ass, so pink and wet. I’ll bet he still smells like you, Christopher. Oh, I’m just going to watch now, you know how much I love seeing your monster cock penetrating a tight little ass.”

~

Stiles delivered the goods to a sweaty but grateful Derek and a red-faced Isaac who looked like he was trying not to be resentful. Stiles stayed to hang out and let Derek cling to him a bit, he was used to the older man’s touch at this point.

“How do you feel?”

“I still want to run to her house,” Derek replied. Stiles didn’t need to ask who he was talking about. “I don’t think I want to hurt her anymore, but most of the time I’m confused.”

“Sorry, I won’t bring her up again, if it bothers you.”

“It’s okay.”

Isaac left for a few hours while Stiles stayed with Derek until Peter came back from Scott’s house where he’d been visiting his Betas. Stiles had to change the way he thought about them, now that he understood the difference between a pack Alpha and one who was born with what Humans named the Alpha dynamic. He was learning a lot about Werewolves and Derek was a veritable fountain of information. He’d dabbled in Biology and Stiles began taking notes on the fundamental flaws in his learning. He made sure to title his research as a fiction book. Interview with a Werewolf was too cheesy and derivative, but he thought Wolf, by Wolf was okay. Derek didn’t actually care.

Peter returned with dinner and Derek, who’d been snacking all day on Stiles’s treats ate nearly all of it before crashing for a nap. Isaac returned shortly afterwards with some curry for himself, so Peter took Stiles out for some dinner. Peter dressed in designer brands so he always fit the dress code, but Stiles insisted he at least be allowed to stop at home and change out of his ratty, Were-handling jeans into something clean. Sporting slacks and a button-up, he was brought to Josephine’s.

The two men were seated quickly since it was early for the dinner crowd, and he was surprised when Jackson approached their table. He looked pleased, but nervous when he greeted them in French. Peter answered him in French, and they chatted for a minute before he excused himself.

“Is he in your pack?” Stiles asked. “I haven’t seen him around much.”

“We’re discussing it, and I meet with him several times a week.” He took out his phone and pulled up a white noise app that he opened. Stiles couldn’t hear anything except a very soft, low, thrumming sound. “This is at a frequency that can disrupt the carriage of sound to us. Keep your voice low, and at least twenty-feet away.” He slid the phone across the table. “That’s your work phone, I’ve got us all on a plan.”

Jackson returned with a bottle of champagne and gave them the specials, in English this time. He was wearing his haughty server face, which suited him. Stiles asked how he was doing, and he answered politely that he was quite well, and hoped the people in Stiles’s life were doing well too. They ordered the prix fixe menu and the wine pairings to go with it. Stiles snickered after they toasted with their first flutes.

“You’re not trying to get me drunk are you?”

“Not at all, the wine pours are notoriously stingy, so you’re in little danger unless you chug the bottle.” He smiled. “I know you spoke to Argent about our history, it’s not a great time for either of us. I did many things I’m ashamed of, but I’m not afraid to talk about them.”

“I know there’s a lot to be said for context and yours is unique. I’d be lying if I said I’d never judge you, but I don’t have the right to. Whatever you’ve done to either learn from your actions, or put them behind you isn’t anyone else’s business. That being said, I’ll respond to the treatment and behavior I experience based on who I am, and how I feel, so how you or Chris chose to handle something will have no bearing on what I do.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Peter said. “I also wanted to apologize. While I have been going through a lot, and have many distractions, I didn’t take enough time to care for you after what happened between us. I selfishly pursued you and entered into a heat-bond where I might not have been as welcome if I’d asked you an hour earlier. My own feelings of wanting you, and wanting to take your suggestion to work through things with Chris were more important to me than that. I’m sorry, Stiles, you mean far more to me than it must’ve seemed.”

“I appreciate your apology. I’m sorry I’ve been inconsistent with boundaries, and I probably shouldn’t have gotten involved with you that night in our apartment. I wanted absolution for treating you like an animal. Knowing or unknowing, I still feel terrible about it. You desiring me, and needing me made me feel validated.”

“The learning curve is pretty steep, and we’re all works in progress.”

Jackson served them flawlessly and Stiles really enjoyed the meal. Peter was excellent company and quite knowledgeable on wines.  
“What made you interested in wines, if you can’t get drunk?”

“Dear boy, one should never drink good wine in order to get drunk, but I took a wine appreciation course in college as what I thought would be an Easy A. My professors managed to get several very old and very rare bottles of wine, and of course we only had a small sip each, but I found that I enjoyed guessing their qualities from the smells released in the room when the wines were breathing. I started to really appreciate it and how it complimented certain foods.”

“Must’ve been a much better school than I went to.”

“An education is a tool, how we use them indicates our success, not how prestigious the previous learners have been.” Jackson came over to bring dessert as he was speaking. “I think the access to an education is incredibly important.” He smiled up at Jackson although he was still talking to Stiles. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure that the people under my care get the opportunities to do well.”

Peter paid and they left, Stiles went home alone, and spent the evening thinking. He got a text around midnight and called down for the night doorman to let in his guest. Jackson looked tired, but hopeful when he joined Stiles for a nightcap.

“Sorry to bug you so late, you totally could’ve waited to answer until tomorrow.”

“I was up. How’re the hours at work?”

“Plentiful till summer. We’re not close enough to the college to be a good spot for more than the most determined students. My boss works me hard, but I get paid better than I thought I would.”

“Peter said you two were talking, but he didn’t tell me anything more than that.”

“I figured; it wasn’t why I asked to talk to you.” Jackson cleared his throat. “I just…I don’t really have any…friends. I don’t know anyone in the area I can be myself with. I thought I’d be okay pretending to be human twenty-four-seven, but it’s hard not to have someone you can relax around.”

“As long as it’s okay with Peter, because it’s his territory, I’d be happy to talk to you. I think you have a great chance of succeeding. I’m not sure how many others escaped captivity like you, but for someone with no model to try to follow, you’re really incredible.” He saw Jackson’s face relax with something akin to relief.

“Thanks, it feels good to hear someone say that.”

“No problem, Jackson.” Jackson left because it was late and he had to work, but he accepted Stiles’s offer to chat soon. The human wondered where the wolf was living. He hadn’t talked to Lydia about her former protégé in a few weeks. In the morning, he brought her some pastries from the stash he’d baked and some fancy coffee. They sat out on her newly-built patio that impressed Stiles.

“Thanks. Derek built it. I left for the weekend and Peter brought him over, he wanted to make a gesture of apology and try to associate my house with something other than me.”

“I think he’s improving.”

“You’re still planning to work for Peter and the pack?”

“I already am, in a way.” He pointed to the scones. “This is pack outreach.” They grinned at each other. “I want to help Deaton out, but after everything that’s happened, I’m not sure I can go back to work there.”

“I understand. I’ve talked about it with him, and I’m going to take over all administrative and web-based Essence orders as well as the accounting. Without feral Alphas, we don’t have the need for specially trained staff. The source of the toxin has been found and hopefully eliminated, so we can assume that there might not be any more ferals being triggered by it.”

“That’s true,” Stiles rubbed his head. “Peter took me to Josephine’s last night. Jackson was there, and he dropped by last night to talk to me.”

“Okay.” Her face was unreadable.

“It was brief, but I wanted to at least give you the courtesy of letting you know.”

“What does he want?”

“Peter’s got him on probation-I didn’t even know he was in town-but he said he was lonely without having someone to talk to who knows about Werewolves. I told him it was up to Peter, but that I was okay lending an ear sometimes. I didn’t bring you up, but I won’t see him if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“Are you asking my permission to be his friend?”

“No, I’m saying I’m totally ambivalent to the guy. I feel bad about his situation, but he’s also a backstabbing fink, so I’m okay leaving him hanging. If you have feelings one way or the other, I’d like to hear them. If you want to table the discussion, let me know.”

“What Peter’s offering is something I’d wanted to give him for a long time. I think he’s capable of doing amazing things, and I want that for him, but I’ll take your offer of thinking on it before I form an opinion.”

“Thanks. Is he still living in your building?”

“Yes, but he signed a lease and he’s been paying rent.”

“Have you two talked at all?”

“No, everything’s been through the mail.”

“How’re things with Jordan?”

“Odd, He’s been really busy lately and working more for the sheriff’s department than as WCO, but there are far fewer strays and wild Weres lately.” She frowned. “I wonder if that’s because Peter’s here.”

“It would be interesting to know if the non-urbanized ones know there’s an Alpha in town.”

“I’m curious to know what effect it’s having on the pet Weres.”

“Are there any in the stables?”

“A small herd came in, only about eight from the north, and Heather got really busy, so we accepted some back. She was good enough to split the Alphas, but she kept Hayden and Liam.”

“I can’t blame her.”

“It’s hard to say because of the change in group dynamics, and the lack of the overwhelming Alpha pheromones from the barn, but I’d say they’re much quieter.”

“Interesting.”

The two friends chatted about the things Stiles had learned from Derek about the differences between what researches had believed about Weres and the truth about Werewolves. Stiles spent the afternoon with Scott and his father doing fence repair. Peter had insisted that Stiles be present so the two new wolves could check themselves by watching how much Stiles could lift and how quickly he tired. Scott and John watched carefully and did about fifty-percent more than Stiles, so things were fairly close to normal. The difference was that Stiles had a few blisters and John and Scott didn’t. Stiles saw the way his father was carefully watching him and knew what he was thinking.

“Stiles, have you given any thought to asking Peter for the bite?”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Dad.”

“Is it because you and he…and uh…apparently Chris Argent are…involved?”

“No, I’m just not sure that it’s what I want. I will say, for the record, that in the event of my incapacitation or serious injury, I consent in advance to whatever dentally-related life-saving measures can be done.” He saw his dad relax a little. Scott came out with three beers and they all sat in the cool afternoon and admired the neat-but-amateur replacement of the fence.

“You talk to him?” Scott asked.

“Can’t you hear?”

“I wasn’t listening,” he said, proudly, and puffed out his chest. John slapped him on the shoulder, affectionately. “It’s harder to focus, but once I got the hang of it, it’s more like filtering.”

“I’m used to not listening to half of the things that go on at work.” John chuckled. “I had to prioritize that because I already know too much about the personal lives of my staff.”

“Yeah, and I needed to be able to get some sleep when you stay over,” Scott mumbled, and John had the decency to look apologetic.


	4. Catch up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just because I feel bad leaving Boyd out and wanted to gear up for his return.

Stiles stayed for Melissa’s empanadas and helped with the dishes. When they were alone in the kitchen, she asked about Allison.

“I heard she’s been pretty upset with you.”

“Yeah, she has a right to be, but I also had a good reason to not bring it up.” When she raised her eyebrows he sighed. “On the one hand, we weren’t serious enough for it to be any of her business, on the other, if we’d talked to her, there was a good chance she’d have been upset and might’ve talked to Kate about it. Or she could’ve caused trouble herself if she was feeling vindictive.”

“I can see where you wouldn’t want to go looking for problems before you figured out if you were compatible.”

“That’s really it. And we’re compatible so far.”

“And Peter?”

Also compatible…with both of us. It’s weird, they have history with each other, and I have a history with both of them separately. And together.”

“My heats have always been a bear.” Melissa ruffled his hair. “It’s such a complicated situation, I can see why she feels upset. It’s tough to cross a line in a dynamic. When two people in a circle of friends start to become something more, it inevitably changes things with everyone else. Especially if things go south. Whose side would Allison be on? And how can you be a confidante to her if you’re dating her dad?”

“Right, it probably messed with her trust.” He frowned. “I didn’t really think of it like that. I mean, I got that she felt lied to, but she and I were spending time together while I was seeing Chris and we didn’t say anything.” It would have felt like there was a spy in his life if one of his friends was seeing his dad behind his back. “I’m not sure how to approach things, because my romantic life has been a little different lately, and I don’t even know how to start a conversation like that.”

“Honey, I care about Allison, I’ve known her for years, but you’re a bigger concern for me. What do you want?”

“I’ve never felt such an intense connection with anyone before. We’re sharing an unbelievable experience, but it seems like it’s on a different level than the romantic part of things. My life would’ve changed without that part, and I’d be pack adjacent because of Dad. Because our lives are so wrapped up anyway, it feels kind of natural.”

“How’s Isaac doing? And Derek?”

“Okay. Derek’s heat was held off so long, it’s rough, but he’s okay so far. I’ll go over tonight and stay with them to give Isaac a night off.”

“Don’t spread yourself too thin, you’ve got to find a new job.”

“About that. I think I might have found one.”

Melissa was surprisingly pleased with the arrangement. Stiles felt like he must be doing something wrong to have a job that felt so easy and natural. Someone was paying him to look after his…family.

Derek’s rut passed without incident, but with many calories. The guy actually looked bloated after eating a family-sized bag of Doritos. Stiles hadn’t even known that werewolves could get bloated, but Derek was definitely…puffy. Chris flew down to L.A. and Peter went with him for some secret reason, or for wild sex, but Stiles was left in charge of keeping everyone organized and happy. He loved it!

Stiles packed lunches for his dad, Lydia, Deaton, Scott and Melissa for their various work and school days. They even got their favorite drinks. He used pack funds to get a membership at the local bulk and wholesale store and a massive chest freezer that he kept at his dad’s house. Isaac and Derek helped him put together a shelving unit in the basement for the non-perishables. He knew it was a bit much at first, but he loved doing meal prep. He gave Erica a break by taking Boyd for an afternoon, and hung out with the massive Werewolf. Derek joined them for a few hours and the two Werewolves wrestled in a field to get their extra energy out.

They went to the preserve and Derek took off with Boyd chasing him for over three miles. Afterwards, Stiles treated them all to milkshakes. He felt a twinge in his gut, when he watched Boyd interacting with Derek, a niggling sense that he wasn’t finished. He knew Deaton had a much better idea of how to help the young Werewolf, but he felt like he _could_ be contributing. He took Erica to dinner that night, and they went with fine dining so she could show off a little black dress she’d had in her closet since before the accident.

Stiles dressed up as well, and Erica held his elbow as they entered the restaurant. In her three-inch heels, she was a little taller than the Omega, which he’d never minded, but her legs would’ve distracted anyone if they’d cared.

“So is this a new thing? Feeding us decadent food and taking us out?”

“It could be for you if you like it.” Stiles let the server hold her chair and raised an eyebrow at him when he’d stared at her décolletage. “I haven’t had any one-on-one Erica time, since someone’s taking up all your attention. I thought it might be nice to get out and catch up.” The restaurant was small and intimate, and with the music playing, he felt comfortable talking about things. They’d all agreed not to use the word ‘Werewolf’ anymore. Pack, wolf, and even Alpha could easily be euphemism, or a description of dynamic, but Werewolf had only one meaning to most people.

“I’m doing okay, I think.” Despite the confidence with which she carried herself, Erica still seemed to have some insecurities.

“It’s okay if you’re not. You also don’t need to feel guilty about things being really good. I want to hear the honest truth about how _you_ are. Not just because I’m the pack mom or something.”

“Okay, I probably need to think about it a little.” They chatted and drank fine wine which made Erica a little sad. “I couldn’t drink because of the seizures, now I can’t get a buzz.”

“It’s overrated.”

“Okay, I think I’ve got an answer for you.”

“Hit me.”

“Physically, I feel much better than I think I ever have in my life. It’s a little scary to sometimes have to fight my instincts, but it’s getting easier.” She frowned. “I know Boyd is getting really attached to me, the same way Peter was with you, and Derek with Lydia. I feel terrible that I can’t help him, but I can’t return his feelings while he’s like this.”

“True, you have no way to know what his personality was like beforehand, or what he’ll be like when he returns to himself.”

“In the meantime, can I start trying to teach him to talk? Is there something Peter can do?” She wiggled her fingers, meaningfully. “Maybe he can help unlock the language barrier. I mean, it worked for Derek.”

“I’ll ask him, but Derek and Peter both came back in a more unique situation, so I don’t want you to be upset if it can’t happen right away.”

“What’s so different?” Erica looked frustrated.

“Peter started to regain his senses when he bit Scott and Lydia. He came back completely,” he lowered his voice, “when Duke whammied my brain and Peter knotted me. His memories didn’t come back until Lydia bridged the gap between them when they went into Derek’s mind together.”

“Can she go into Boyd’s?”

“We’re not sure, but there’s a moral side to this as well.” He frowned. “Peter and Derek have both had problems adjusting when their memories of captivity returned.” He drained his glass and set it down. “Deaton’s worried that Boyd wouldn’t want to remember. I think he’d rather give him a choice if a chemical cure can just open up his mind. We also don’t know how dangerous it is for Lydia to go into people’s minds.”

“Okay,” Erica nodded. “I remember what it was like at the circus. I guess maybe he wouldn’t want to remember that either.”

“If he can’t find another way, Deaton will try the method he used on Derek.”

“Do you know how soon he’ll decide?” Erica looked sad and guilty as her dessert came. “It’s getting really hard, because he keeps making all these…advances.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” Stiles said. “I’ll talk to Deaton and Peter tomorrow. You could probably use a break from him, anyway. After you changed, we shouldn’t have kept expecting you to care for him.”

“It’s okay, I mean, Boyd’s part of the pack. You keep caring for him even when he’s sick, right?”

“You’re exactly right.”

~

Deaton, as usual, was a step ahead of them. When Stiles went over to the shelter the next day to bring him and Lydia some lunch, Erica and Boyd were in the enclosure. It was a Sunday so the few staff who remained had gone home at midday, and the vet had Boyd out in the enclosure. Scott came out of the clinic with an absurdly large syringe and needle. Something yellowish was inside and it had a faintly, sinister look to it.

“This is the safest I can make it,” Deaton said. “Peter’s on his way and when he arrives we’re going to administer a quarter of it and see what happens. It’s very volatile and will lose potency fast, so I want to be able to get the rest into him if it’s needed.”

Peter arrived alone, and helped get Boyd strapped onto an exam table, face-down so that Peter could easily access the back of his neck. Deaton started an IV on the big Werewolf’s arm and Erica continued to talk to him and pet him. He was given a light sedative because he was getting anxious, and then Peter talked about what he was doing.

“When I’ve entered human minds, there are several layers of consciousness. I think of them as the lizard brain, the Id, and the personality. On Derek and Boyd, the times I’ve gone in while they were totally feral meant it was a cloud or swirl of images that made little sense. Words they were hearing only came through as vague sounds because they had no language skills. With Derek, I had a second person to guide me and my own connection. I’ve lost that since the integration, and I know nothing about Boyd’s past.”

“Can you take me with you?” Erica asked.

“I want you on standby in case this doesn’t work, Sweetheart.”

Peter and Deaton both started to work, the vet beginning to pump the treatment directly into the IV while Peter entered Boyd’s mind. For the first five minutes, everyone stood quietly, and then Peter told Deaton to add more of the treatment. When the syringe was half empty, Peter withdrew his claws.

“What did you see?” Deaton asked, placing a steadying hand on Peter’s arm.

“I managed to reach some of his memories, but they’re mostly from the last six months, but they’re getting clearer. I think his contact with Erica, being in her home, and having one-on-one human interaction might’ve started the process the way giving Lydia and Scott the bite did for me. They were leading me back to myself. Erica was doing that for Boyd, and it’s also what Lydia was doing for Derek.” Peter looked at Erica. “You’ve been so good for him, Sweet girl. I think he’ll wake up as himself, but his feelings may be strong. You are under no obligation to be with him just because he’s attached. You’ve done everything for him in good faith, and nobody could ask for more.”

“Thanks.”

“I want you to talk to him for a few minutes, and then go home and rest. I’ll let you know what’s happening, and I’ll call you back when it’s safe.”

“Okay, Alpha.” Stiles walked Erica out to the car, and she hugged him tightly.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“You mean if he does come back, or if he doesn’t?”

“You may be starting from scratch, or not at all. He might decide to go back to L.A., or he might have developed feelings for you that you might or might not return. If he does have feelings for you, you still need to do what’s right for you.”

“Is that why Peter’s keeping us apart?”

“Probably. He also knows how difficult it was for Derek and him.” Stiles hugged his friend. “If you want to stay with Isaac and me tonight so we’re together when we get an update, we’d love to have you.”

“Thanks, but I’m going to take the opportunity and clean my place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next...smut.


	5. You've really got a hold on me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Snicker*

Stiles returned to the apartment and was pulling into his parking space when he got a text from Chris.

_From @argent- Let me know when you get home._

_To @rgent- just parked. I’ll be upstairs in a minute. Come over if you’d like._

_From @rgent- Not busy?_

_To @rgent- Nope_

_From @argent- Okay, I’m just leaving Peter’s so I’ll be there in a few._

Stiles was unloading the dishwasher when he heard the doorknob rattle followed by a short knock. Stiles walked over and unlocked the deadbolt, opening the door to a bright, white smile.

“Hi there.” Stiles greeted the man with a kiss.

“I’m so glad to be locked out.” He put his arms around Stiles and hugged him, giving him a sweet, slow, kiss in return. “I worried about you a lot.”

“I know,” Stiles stepped away. “How was your trip? It wasn’t a great time to ask Peter when we were at the shelter.”

“How did it go? He sent me a vague text.”

“He’s hopeful, but there’s no guidebook for this. Boyd was a stranger to all of us, and in both Derek and Peter’s cases, the cure was different.”

“Waiting is the hardest part, I think. The trip went well. That’s why I came over; I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Did something happen, or is this you and me doing something normal?”

“Both, I think.” When they were both comfortably seated, he started talking. “It was mostly business, but Peter came down as backup in case the hunter crowd was causing trouble.”

“He’s met some of them, right?”

“Met? That’s one way to put it.” Chris smirked. “Yeah, but he held back, kept out of sight. I was mostly there for meetings and to wrap up and sign things for going public. I told her at one point I had plans with a friend for dinner and she got very frosty with me.” He frowned a little. “Peter and I met for drinks and dinner, and she showed up.”

“What did she say?”

“She didn’t actually approach us. We could smell her, and hear her when she was on the phone. Peter was closer, but it was loud so he couldn’t tell who she was talking to. Unfortunately it just reinforces the need to keep it a secret.”

“Could she try to sabotage you by bringing up your relationships with men?” Stiles watched as the older man took in a slow breath.

“It would be a gamble. If she was wrong, she could turn public opinion against herself for outing me, and she would lose a lot of money.”

“So, how rich are you going to be?” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows and saw the bright white smile return. “If I’m going to be branded a gold-digging Sugar Baby by the FBI and whomever Allison talks to, maybe I should demand some extravagant thing I have no use for.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, a yacht?”

“Are you asking me for one?”

“I’m asking if that’s a stupid thing to buy a guy who worked with shelter Weres?”

“I suppose it could be considered an investment,” Chris mused. “You could charter it and turn it into a business.”

“No! I want something stupid and useless.” Stiles leaned back and laid his head in Chris’s lap and the hunter began to rub his scalp. “How much of a difference in your living situation will this make for you?”

“I could let you read it in the papers,” Chris said. “It’s a big change. We’re not taking the company public, directly, we’re selling out to a huge investment corporation that plans to take the company public. I’m contracted for a certain amount of time and public interviews. As far as my life, it’s not like I was living in poverty before. Allison made out better after the funerals than me, but the value of the company and my income was already substantial.”

“You should’ve at least heard about things that actual _rich_ people buy, right?” Chris chuckled and started rubbing Stiles’s head.

“When I belonged to the country club,” he began, lowering his voice to its deep tone that made Stiles shiver, “I heard plenty of stories about ways rich idiots wasted their money.”

“Besides the country club?”

“The breakfasts were great. When you’re an early riser, that’s important.”

“So, what were some of the useless things that people bought?”

“Well, the unnecessarily fast cars for the people who never drove on a race track. There were some stupidly extravagant gifts for stupider teenagers, like giving unnecessarily fast cars to teenagers, or credit cards and grand vacations with their friends for spring break. There was always the trophy wives.”

“Oh?”

“Men would usually make an effort to score a trophy wife or girlfriend in order to look more successful than they were, and raise confidence in others in order to get people to invest in them. But it always ended up being more expensive to keep the wives happy than they expected.”

“So, you guys were matriarchal right?”

“I wasn’t a trophy husband.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you could’ve been part of Victoria’s displays. “This is the big-horned sheep I killed in the mountains, this is the Kodiak I killed with my bare hands,” he said as Chris laughed, “and over here is my prized possession…the white rhino!”

“I could kill Lydia for telling you that.”

“You were eavesdropping?”

“I heard my name.”

“Did they actually call you that?”

“Not to my face. It would’ve meant admitting they were looking, and comparing.”

“I’d have thought swinging clubs around and hitting balls meant it was all about the dick measuring. This could’ve easily been your locker room story.”

“I’ve no need to brag.”

“I’m just going to start calling you ‘Scuba tank’, and let people guess.”

“No, you’re not.”

“How about just, ‘Scuba’? Or ‘Tank’? Tank is common enough.”

“No.”

“So, back to useless extravagances you’re going to buy your kept boy, I’m thinking I need some kind of exotic pet. Maybe something small and portable but completely obnoxious, like a lemur.”

“You’d want a lemur?”

“Does anyone ever really _want_ one? I mean, I get how in the moment you’re fascinated by the tail and you want to get close to it just to count the rings, but the number of disgusting things that wild animals do should at least factor into the thought process.”

“I think you’re far too sensible for being a kept boy.”

“I’ll have you know I can be very high maintenance.”

“You have high energy and high intelligence, you’re not high maintenance. _Peter_ is high maintenance; being with you is one of the easiest things I can think of. It’s like my treat to myself when I’ve had a hard day.”

“Did you have a hard day? Should you be the one with his head pillowed on some strong thighs? I have some thighs, and I’m a runner sometimes.”

“I had a good day, I wanted to share that with you too.”

“So, I can keep the thighs?”

“For now.”

“How about what’s between them?”

“I think I can arrange for you to have some access, but you haven’t finished your negotiations yet.”

“Being a kept man is hard. You’ll just have to think of something I don’t need or want.” He rolled onto his side and rubbed the front of the hunter’s pants. He sighed as he felt the organ start to stiffen up behind the denim. “It unfurls like an elephant’s trunk. Do you roll it up to get it to fit behind your zipper? I’m sorry, I’ll stop talking about it so much. I don’t want you to get uncomfortable.” Chris was laughing as he stood up, slinging Stiles over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Oh, is this the part where I tell you I’ll do anything for an A?”

“I’m not your teacher.”

“Well, I’ll do a lot of things for the D, then.” Chris was still laughing when he tossed Stiles down onto his bed. He closed and locked the door in case of wayward Werewolves who didn’t like sleeping alone and stalked back towards the bed and the Omega currently fighting his way out of his hoodie. He paused, mid-stalk, when it looked like Stiles might be losing.

“Uh-”

“I got it, just gimmie a minute. And your dick. Gimmie your dick too. Just take it out, keep it warm I’ll-Okay, I’m good.” His hair was adorably messed up by the static and his eyes were bright with desire. He pounced on the Alpha, knocking him back against the door and kissing him furiously. The Alpha responded but let the Omega take control, opening his mouth for Stiles and allowing the younger man to suck on his tongue, pulling it in and out of his mouth in an explicit preview of his plan.

Chris hummed in his throat and when Stiles pushed his arms up he folded them behind his head, obediently. Stiles unbuttoned Chris's shirt with frantic fingers, far too thrifty to tear it open-it was Brooks Brothers- but parted the two halves and leaned in, breathing in the Alpha’s scent and slowing himself down. He pressed against the older man’s bare chest, and rubbed himself against the crisp hairs that lightly covered the hunter’s tanned skin, placing kisses along his collarbone and giving the nape of his neck a sharp bite that made the Alpha’s eyes flash red.

“Careful, Omega,” he rumbled.

“Don’t want to be careful,” Stiles panted as he kissed his way down the firm abs and fell to his knees. He fished the thick organ out of its confines and rubbed his cheek against it, making the hunter hiss.

“Stubble,” Chris said with a chuckle.

“Sorry.”

“I liked it.” He sighed when Stiles sucked the tip of his dick into his soft, wet mouth. The Omega began to work him slowly at first, covering him with saliva and slowly working his way down the shaft. He held Chris’s hips, and dug his fingers in as he gently rocked the man forward, thrusting him into his mouth. He was doing hard, slow pulls with his mouth and he could feel the Alpha getting restless, eventually bringing his hands down to touch Stiles’s face and hair.

“Uh-uh.” Stiles pushed the Alpha’s wrists to the surface of the door, and heard the Alpha growl low in his throat. The sound, primitive and wild and generally out of character for Chris sent a shiver up his spine.

“Wanna fuck you,” Chris panted as Stiles continued to work his cock. “Please, Stiles.”

“Take as much as you can stand,” Stiles said. “When you can’t take any more, then you fuck me however you want.”

“Yes,” he hissed in reply and fisted his hands tightly as Stiles loosened his own pants and pushed a hand inside. He stroked himself as he sucked the giant erection, tasting the skin and feeling the smoothness, satin covering steel, and picturing it sliding in and out of him as Chris fucked him. He shivered again and the Alpha groaned. Stiles was gently pulled off the dick and then not-so-gently pushed to the floor on all-fours. “My turn.” He pulled down Stiles’s pants and underwear and his own, so his bare chest was against Stiles’s back. His skin was so warm he felt like a furnace.

The Omega moved his head to the side when Chris moved up and over him, pressing whiskery kisses to his shoulders and neck. His movements were impatient and urgent as he positioned Stiles with his legs spread and pushed his shoulders down until Stiles was on his elbows. Stiles liked it when Chris took what he wanted, like the day Stiles had breakthrough heat symptoms at the firing range. He liked it when the hunter felt less-controlled and more instinctive, focused in his actions. “You’re so wet,” he growled sliding a finger around his slippery rim, “so ready for me.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Stiles breathed, feeling himself clenching and quivering at the feather-light touch. He was far more keyed up and on edge than usual, although nothing about his relationship with Chris had been ordinary. Tonight felt raw and primitive as the hunter was closer to a shift than Stiles had ever seen or felt. Other than the flash of red eyes the night of the break-in, Chris never showed any sign of being anything but human, hiding who and what he was had become as natural as breathing to him; tonight he was growling low in his chest as he passed heavy palms over the Omega’s smooth skin, depositing his scent.

The hunter pressed the thick head of his cock against the Omega’s tight rim and pushed just enough to start sliding inside. To Stiles’s surprise, he felt Chris hold his hip with one hand and grab a fistful of Stiles’s hair with the other. He seated himself in one smooth, hard thrust. Making a keening sound, the younger man tilted his hips up and bore down to make the entry easier. He felt the sweet burn, but it wasn’t rough enough to pull away. Chris began ramming, causing Stiles to scoot a little on the floor, scuffing his elbows until he flattened his forearms and palms to the floor to hold himself still. He felt a quivering low in his belly and somewhere in the back of his mind, the shameless Omega exalted being mounted and mated by a big, strong, bold Alpha.

Stiles’s eyes fluttered closed, blocking out the dim light from his small lamp and let himself go, just letting Chris give it to him so hard and sweet. He felt the older man’s breath, hot and damp, against the back of his neck as he growled possessively. The Omega whined in supplication, he was submitting, what more did the Alpha want?

“Gonna fill you up so you smell like me for days,” Chris growled in a voice so deep, Stiles could barely hear it as he was jarred back and forth on the man’s cock. It sounded like his chest was expanding with the shift and before he could wonder about it, he felt the faintest brush of sharp fangs at his nape, and the tiniest catch of a clawed thumb against his scalp. It lit something up inside him that was dark and wild. He tried to ram himself back against Chris while flailing to grip Chris’s hip, urging him deeper, faster, harder. The growl got louder and drown out Stiles’s voice as he begged, pleaded over and over to be bitten, marked, knotted and bred.

The Omega reached up and gripped a handful of Chris’s hair pulling him down and urging his own neck beneath the wolf’s fangs. He was being properly mounted by the beast and fucked raw and hard. He didn’t know what he was saying, he could feel sounds being made by his own, parched throat, but he wished with all his might that Chris had a clone or two so he could be spit-roasted and suck the man’s cock while he was getting fucked. He felt the fangs scrape the back of his neck this time, the most vulnerable spot the wolf could reach, and he felt his hole fluttering and spasming, trying to clench on a knot, and heard Chris’s surprised exclamation behind him.

The Alpha’s knot began to expand, and Stiles wanted it so badly, he wept with relief. He wanted Chris’s knot, Chris’s seed filling him up and Chris’s teeth in his neck, holding him down while he was bred. Strong fingers fastened around the Omega’s wrists like iron bands and they were jerked down to the floor in front of him as Chris’s thrusts got shorter, and kept his knot from pushing inside.

“Knot me,” he rasped and tried to scramble backwards. He heard the hunter curse loudly and then he was biting Stiles’s nape hard. He gave a tiny shake and growled, demanding the Omega submit and remain still. He dropped his head down, and with a grunt, Chris pushed his knot into his hole and locked them together. The hunter didn’t stop moving, he continued to growl each time Stiles took a breath, giving a quick clench with his teeth, and giving short, aborted thrusts that caused the knot to grind into his prostate.

Stiles felt sound leave his own throat as he came with hard, almost-painful spasms that wracked his whole body and milked the Alpha. His vision went fuzzy and then he floated, feeling safe and warm, secure under his Alpha’s teeth. He felt them shift to the side, but Chris was still moving as he came, rolling his hips against Stiles’s and stroking the Omega’s cock, which was inexplicably hard despite his orgasm. They were lying on their sides with Argent’s knee between Stiles’s legs-both of their pants around their ankles-and the hunter speaking in a low voice.

“Are you with me, Stiles?”

“Ungh,” Stiles managed to grunt.

“I need you to come again, stay with me.” Stiles realized he was trying to push the hunter’s hands off his sensitive dick.

“Can’t,” he rasped, “it’s too much.” His voice was slurred and lazy, like his tongue was too heavy.

“You have to, Baby. You’re still squeezing me, it’s gonna get my knot up again before I can slip out.”

“What?” Stiles was confused, but woke up a little from the concerned tone of the Alpha’s voice. “What do you mean?”

“Come here,” he said, which was silly because they were stuck together. Stiles couldn’t exactly wander off. He groaned when Chris rolled them so that Stiles was lying on Chris’s chest with his head resting on the older man’s shoulder. The knot tugged painfully at his hole which was, indeed, doing some weirdly pleasant-up until right then-contraction around the delicious knot. The hunter shifted and pushed Stiles’s hips down in order to ease the pressure, but surprised the Omega by shoving his pants off one foot and folding both legs so Stiles was riding his knot reverse-cowboy. He felt his belly tighten and ran his hand over his abdomen, where he could feel the pressure from Chris’s cock and the inflation of the apparently massive load of come the man had put in him.

“This is gonna be messy,” he grumbled, letting Chris, who seemed to have a plan, plant his own feet on the floor.

“Hold my knees,” he ordered, and Stiles grabbed them as the hunter raised his hips slightly and began to bounce. Stiles yelped as all of his own body weight was slammed onto the knot by way of his prostate. It felt good and bad, in that overstimulated way, and he arched his back, moving one hand to wrap around his hard, angrily weeping cock. He’d felt himself come, but there was none of the usual mess. “Come on, Stiles,” Chris said in that deep voice. “You’re young, you can give me one more. Do it.” As he spoke, he was thrusting his hips and had one hand low on Stiles’s back and the other on his shoulder, steadying him.

The younger man panted and jerked his dick, but he couldn’t quite get there. Then he felt the alpha’s fingers sneak up into his hair and tighten on the dark locks, squeezing until Stiles felt the pull. It was enough to push him over the edge and he came hard, shooting an impressive arc of spunk that managed to hit the edge of his bedspread. He blinked at it blearily as he came down, both figuratively and literally a Chris lowered his own hips. He could feel the Alpha’s last few spurts of come bathing his insides.

“My dad is supposed to visit tomorrow,” he gasped. “This place is going to smell like you do nothing except fuck me.”

“He knows I’m thorough,” Chris said, gruffly, seeming unconcerned with Stiles's embarrassment. He rubbed his fingertips against Stiles’s nape as he sat up, carefully. “What was this all about?” he mused, not needing to explain what he meant.

“I don’t even know.” The exhausted Omega dropped his head back on Chris’s shoulder, “It just came out of nowhere, it was like I couldn’t control myself.”

“You dropped like that after I knotted you hanging out of my SUV.” The older man was running his fingers possessively over the sore spot on his neck.

“Dropped?”

“It’s what we call it when a sub is in a good headspace.”

“Sub-drop, right? I did wonder about your connections at the bondage club.” Chris went quiet for a moment. “It’s okay, I’m the opposite of shaming you, I’m intrigued.”

“I’m flattered,” he replied, flatly. “Peter’s here, by the way. I can hear him in the elevator.” He cleared his throat. “We’re in the bedroom, and we’re a bit stuck at the moment.”

“Let yourself in. And if you don’t mind, bring two green apple sodas to the suite on the left, please and thank you.” He heard Chris chuckling after a moment, obviously listening to something Peter was saying.

“Yes, we’re on the floor and can’t get up at the moment... Stiles thinks his father will be offended by the way the room is going smell…Yeah, I haven’t had the heart to tell him yet.”

“Tell me what? This is so unfair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted something light-hearted and fun before I go tearing into Stiles and Peter's relationship dynamics.


	6. Deserve.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This has been changed and re-uploaded as of 5/23/20** This has a different ending than the original

Peter let himself into the apartment casually, and took the time to remove his shoes at the door, and hang his coat. He whistled as he walked over to the refrigerator, hearing Chris’s heavy sigh as the other wolf clearly understood he was in no hurry. He could hear the most amusing noises from Stiles’s bedroom, and wondered if this is what John Stilinski had experienced as the father of a boy too clever and prone to unusual mishaps for his own good; the tiny moment of anxiety as he steels himself, getting ready for whatever is on the other side.

Chris had the good breeding to look sheepish and apologetic as Peter walked in. He held up the soda bottles by their necks and leaned against the wall, observing the tangled limbs and sweaty bodies. He paused to also let out a cloud of sex-rich aromas that would likely irritate the other two residents of the apartment, and smiled at the thought. Isaac was most likely going to angrily and resentfully jerk off until he got ball fatigue while Derek was just going to be lonely and depressed…as usual.

“Can I have my soda, please?” Stiles’s raspy voice came from behind a wall of knees. “And, if it’s not too much trouble, could you grab a hand towel from the bathroom?” Peter walked closer and saw the Omega with his head resting on a tired-looking Chris’s shoulder.

“You don’t have any straws, I’m not sure how you plan to pull this off,” Peter said, bemused.

“For the record, I’m not sure _anything_ is going to be pulled off of anything else in this room, anytime soon. This is a whole new kind of stuck that had better not end up with us in the emergency department.”

“Argent.”

“Hale.” The two older men gave each other a nod; Chris’s clearly indicated that no mirth should be expressed right now. Peter’s made it clear that there would absolutely be much mirth expressed immediately following the conclusion of the current situation. He passed over the sodas and Stiles managed to turn his torso sideways and drink most of his soda by getting his head tilted into a semi-upright position. Chris accepted a carefully poured mouthful before Peter set the bottle on a nearby nightstand and went to find a towel. He moved it underneath their hips as Stiles breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank God. If he ever shrinks, it’s going to be a flood down here.”

“How long have you been knotted?”

“Not much longer than usual, but it was different this time.” Chris rolled himself and Stiles onto their sides to face Peter who sat on the floor with his back to the edge of the bed.

“Careful, there might be a little…spot.”

“I know where it is, Stiles.” He raised his eyebrows. “I suppose this is probably a good time to let you know that you probably can’t keep any kind of personal information to yourself. In fact, you haven’t been keeping it from any wolves for a long time.”

“This is so gross.”

“It’s pretty natural. You smell like everyone else, and your bedroom smells like every other healthy man’s bedroom.” Peter was giving him a chat like they were discussing where babies come from. “I guarantee, since your father still lives in the house where you grew up, and went through puberty, and lived after college for a while, that there are not going to be many surprises.”

“Just yank your knot, and let me bleed out.” Stiles covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know what’s worse, being reminded you have no secrets, or getting a lecture about it while you’re knotted.”

“I love a captive audience.”

Chris’s knot eventually deflated enough for him to gingerly pull out, and Stiles sent both men to the kitchen while he ‘drained’ because he wasn’t one of those people who enjoyed being watched while semen left his body so long after the actual orgasm. It wasn’t hot anymore, just messy.

Peter gave him a wink and Chris’s dick an affectionate tug as the hunter was tucking himself away. The older man flinched and glared, which Peter ignored. After a thorough shower, Stiles rejoined them to talk about Boyd.

“He’s confused and upset, but he woke up knowing who he was. Alan decided to sedate him so he could sleep because he was feeling anxious. He’s bonded to me as a Beta at this point, so I can give him some stability. He seemed more comfortable around Deaton, but asked about Scott, so your friend is going over to the shelter to stay with him for the day.”

“Scott’s got a way of calming people.” Stiles lounged in the kitchen and chatted idly with his lovers. Peter seemed himself, but a little edgy, after some thought Stiles asked him about it. “Are you okay being over at the shelter?”

“I’m okay, Sweetheart.” Peter seemed to be telling the truth, but he didn’t say the shelter didn’t bother him, either. After they’d left, Stiles thought about Peter and the shelter, and how he would feel about it in the wolf’s position. It had been a prison for him, as well as a kind of sanctuary. Boyd had apparently preferred being there instead of Peter’s apartment at first because he was more comfortable there, even without the barn. Stiles hadn’t been back there often, although he talked to Deaton several times a week. It didn’t feel as comfortable as it had anymore.

~

Stiles worked in Peter’s office on little projects over the next few weeks as Boyd became acclimated to the world of humans again. The big, quiet man took a lot of things in stride with the reserved pragmatism of a person who was used to expecting nothing out of life and getting even less. Stiles hung out with him, and although Boyd declined their offer of sharing a bedroom or moving Peter’s office, he was often with Derek and Isaac too. Erica and Boyd had danced around an uneasy friendship as they got to know each other. Boyd didn’t discuss his feelings about Erica during his time as a wolf, but when Peter pronounced him fit to travel, at least in between full moons, he had accepted Erica’s offer to accompany him to Los Angeles. He had no more family, but he told Stiles he felt like he wanted to visit where he used to live in order to close out his old life.

“I’ve heard someone say once that you need to look at where you’ve been before you can figure out where you’re going,” he said in his deep, quiet voice. Erica fiddled with the radio in the nondescript sedan Peter had bought them for their trip; they didn’t want to draw attention in the part of Los Angeles where Boyd had grown up. “I want to anchor my past, not forget it.”

“Call me if you need me. For anything.” Stiles hugged the bigger man and waved him off as he got into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb. The Omega waited until the car turned out of sight before going back into Peter’s apartment. Malia and Kira were looking at a house to rent, and Chris was in Los Angeles wrapping up his press releases. He didn’t immediately see the Alpha but he could hear him humming to himself in the bathroom.

“All set?” Peter asked, as Stiles swung around the corner and into the doorway of the master bathroom.

“Those crazy kids are off on their adventure.”

“Is Mama Wolf okay with that?”

“Who’re you calling ‘Mama’?” Stiles scoffed as Peter lowered his razor to avoid messing up his shave when he chuckled. He handed it to Stiles who hopped up on the counter and took over the shaving.

“I’m their Daddy, Chris isn’t in the pack, and you’re by far the most protective person here. You see all their-” he paused while Stiles shaved his upper lip, “-shit happening, before it happens. It reminds me of Talia and my own mother.” He waited while Stiles carefully angled the straight razor around the stubble boundary he was currently keeping. “We only had gender roles in my family as far as actual birthing goes, and only because we had no male Omegas.”

“It was kind of a matriarchy, right?” Stiles asked, rinsing the razor and moving on the cheekbones. “Laura, Talia, and your grandmother mother before that, right?”

“Matriarchy indicates that gender is a factor in leadership, that’s never been the case with us. The most powerful and capable wolf gets the Alpha spark.”

“Laura was stronger than you?”

“Not stronger, no, but maybe more powerful.”

“Is that the capacity for anchoring?”

“Laura could also shift into a full wolf, like my sister. It’s very rare, I’ve never done it, but I also don’t trust my wolf.”

“No?”

“He’s shady as fuck.”

~

The usual workload was strangely light with the absence of a large chunk of the pack, so Peter and Stiles had less to do than usual. Stiles went to Deaton’s to help with orientation for a few volunteers and showed them how to do food prep before taking some supplies down to the new barn for a little careful installation. The new barn was off-limits, but only because it was still under construction, and Stiles walked inside it in the dim light of early evening once the shelter was closed down for the day. The smell of freshly cut lumber couldn’t disguise the lingering hints of smoke, despite the remains of the barn being completely torn down and removed.

The Omega drummed his fingers absently on the edge of the new stalls and admired the clean craftsmanship. After it was properly plumbed and wired, the mountain ash barriers would go up at the same time as the new security system. Deaton would move his practice in there temporarily while he did some updates in the old house. The stalls were in approximately the same place, and the layout of the new barn was similar, but there were some changes. The milking rooms were bigger, and they had plumbing roughed in, so they weren’t just small closets with restraints. He opened the bag he’d brought with him and took out the leather straps he’d been working on. They were the same mountain ash-infused leather that Deaton used to make their belts.

The leather would hold a wild Were, but it would be useless unless properly anchored to another substance that could withstand supernatural strength. People didn’t always realize that a human with the right intent could hold a wild Were more easily than if the creature were chained to a tree. The chains might be difficult for the creatures to break, but a tree only a temporary obstacle to a determined Were. If there was a weak point, they would exploit it. Deaton also didn’t trust a lot of the manufacturers since all equipment came with a disclaimer absolving them of liability if the equipment didn’t work properly. He’d always made his own, and Stiles had learned from him early on. Lydia and Jordan had come over the previous week and had helped Deaton build a portable restraint system that was anchored to a concrete slab beneath the floorboards to keep it from being tipped over when in use.

The cross looked flimsy, but it was made from an English Rowan tree that was over a hundred and fifty years old, and its strength was deceptive. Stiles went over each joint and Deaton joined him as they both battered it, rocked it, and generally tried to tear it apart while looking for weak points. The vet’s cell phone rang and interrupted them as they were trying to tip it over.

“It’s an emergency at an alpaca farm,” Deaton said, hanging up his phone. “I’m sorry, this might take some time.”

“It’s fine, I’ll finish the installation and we can tell Peter to come by tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Deaton grabbed his bag, “Alpacas wait for no one.”

Stiles turned on some music before carefully threaded the ends of the leather strap through holes in the wood, they had to be wary of cracking, but Jordan had taken great care with the drill. Stiles worked the leather into a secure knot on the other side, and then repeated it with the restraints for the other hand and both feet.

“Where’s Deaton?” Peter said, from the doorway. Stiles looked up, surprised.

“Did you get a text from him?” Peter checked his phone.

“Yes, apparently my phone was on silent. Sorry.” He looked up at the cross with a complicated expression. “Do you have enough light?”

“Yeah, I’m almost finished.” He stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. He doubted Peter was completely comfortable in the barn, so he picked up his bag and quickly put away his tools.

“No need to rush, Stiles. I’m okay.” Peter didn’t look distressed, but his expression and body language were…elevated. It wasn’t a defensive, combative stance, he just looked hyper-alert. Stiles slowed his movements and watched the wolf looking at the cross as his nostrils flared, slightly.

“Can you smell the smoke?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

“It’s complicated,” he sighed. Peter looked at Stiles directly and seemed to read his thoughts. “The whole place doesn’t reek of Werewolf jizz or overpowering pheromones, anymore. Deaton’s theory on why we needed to be milked so often in the barn was fairly accurate. We were trying to out-Alpha each other, and we had no clear leader. If one of us had been acknowledged as a leader by the others, there would have been a bit less…masculinity floating around.” His shoulders relaxed and he stepped towards Stiles. “Your presence probably had more of an influence on us than you know.”

“Deaton told me that I was a key factor in the long-term success of having that many volatile Alphas in one space. None have ever lasted that long without being heavily drugged.”

“The places that claim they don’t drug the Alphas use real Omegas till they’re used up. Some places keep relief betas sprayed with Omega pheromone and pretend they’re more humane.” Stiles frowned as Peter squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea from the term itself, but what exactly is a relief Beta?”

“Milking can only do so much, but without proper exercise, the Alphas get hostile and difficult to control. They used to just use females, but they got too valuable for breeding, so they castrate a male Beta, usually one that was a surrendered pet because they’re easier to handle, or one of the smaller ones they bought hoping for an Omega. They spray them down with Omega pheromones and throw them in with the crankier Alphas.”

“What’s their life expectancy?”

“They usually stop eating after a year, if they haven’t been too badly injured or killed by the Alphas.” Stiles dropped his chin and his voice got quiet. “We screen carefully, but not everyone does. We’ve been supporting legislation that proposes outlawing the practice as inhumane, but unfortunately the current administration feels that the healing abilities mean there’s no damage, and it’s hard to prove.”

“What would you do about it if you could?”

“The health benefits are there, I understand why people want to increase production, and that rarity drives up the price, but I think it should focus on being humane first.”

“I agree.”

“I kinda wish you guys were ‘out’ so you’d have autonomy and decide whether or not to donate. I’ve thought about it every night and whether or not legislation could be passed by revealing the existence of a turned Werewolf, and demanding equal rights and freedoms.”

“We both know that ‘danger in the classrooms and work places’ would come up.”

“Yeah, but there are kids who have anger management, or are mentally handicapped who are mainstreamed with other kids and they have rights despite the fact that they actually _have_ violent outbursts.”

“I wish you’d studied law, or political science,” Peter mused, and reached forward to run his fingers through Stiles’s hair. “You’re so good at putting things in perspective.” He saw the tremble in Stiles’s jaw. “What is it?”

“I wish I could shut it off, sometimes.” He went into Peter’s arms when the Alpha reached for him. “I can’t sleep for thinking of all the things I _could_ have been doing to make the world a better place.” He rested his head on the older man’s shoulder. “I slept more, before I knew. I believed I was doing…enough because of you. I believed my progress was important, and then I saw the whole monopoly board and realized I’ve never left my little square. I’ve never really moved forward.”

“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing, especially when we all went to a lot of trouble to keep it from you. I have the same sleepless nights. We all do,” Peter said, stroking his back. “These are my people, and I’ve done very little to help because I’m afraid of being found out.” He straightened up and kissed Stiles’s forehead, and was surprised when the Omega lunged up to catch his lips. His hands tightened and he felt the younger man gripping his shirt like it was a lifeline. “What is it?” he asked, breaking the kiss, softly.

“I should get you out of here.” He turned away and picked up his bag.

“I’m okay, Stiles. Really.”

“I hate being in this room again, I feel ashamed.”

“It’s not the same place. It’s not the same room.” Peter placed his hand on Stiles’s shoulder and the Omega’s posture relaxed. “I was a different person then and so were you. You wouldn’t have been safe with me.” He stood close to the younger man and placed his other hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Some tension remained, and he squeezed the back of the Omega’s neck, releasing some of his own calming pheromones. It took a minute or so, but the tension in Stiles’s spine seemed to slowly ease out. “Even after I’d bonded with you, I still wasn’t anchored, and I still would’ve hurt you.”

“Maybe I deserved it,” Stiles said, quietly.

“No. You weren’t simply good intentions; you were doing good things. You exposed yourself to more risk than most people just to give us the most humane treatment possible. You got hurt dozens of times. _I_ hurt you dozens of times, and I would’ve done far worse if given the opportunity. You also had no idea what I was.”

“I should have.”

“Do you think Lydia deserved to be punished? Do you think that if I hadn’t gotten to Derek in time that she’d have gotten what was coming to her?”

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “Of course not. She’s been devoted to Derek’s care and went to a lot of trouble to bring him back.”

“Why can’t you cut yourself some slack?”

“I don’t know!” He hit the frame of the cross with the bottom of his fist. “I don’t-I don’t know why you still want to be with me. I know you’re intelligent enough to figure out if you’ve got Stockholm Syndrome, but I can’t help feeling like you’re trying to normalize what happened.” Peter was silent and his hands stilled. “I’m so sorry, Peter. It’s not because I think you’re incapable of making the distinction, it’s because I can’t …I don’t deserve to be with you.” Peter remained silent and Stiles eventually turned around to face him. The Alpha was staring at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He continued to stare, like he was trying to figure something out.

“You don’t want the bite.”

“What?” Stiles was surprised by the comment.

“Every so often, you’ve seemed really distracted by something that’s bothering you, and you feel guilty about it.”

“What does that have to do with the bite?”

“We haven’t talked about it much, but other than a vague ‘If I’m badly injured or sick, you can decide for me,’ you’ve mentioned no interest in the bite.”

“It’s not something to decide lightly, besides, you haven’t offered. Not officially.” Stiles still seemed agitated. “How did you talk about it with my dad?”

“That’s between us,” Peter said, firmly. “It’s always a private conversation. I also won’t tell anyone what you and I discuss.”

“Right now, I don’t want it, but I’m okay with getting bitten if it saves me.” Stiles looked miserable after he said it. “I hate the way that sounds; like your bite is better than death, but that’s the only reason I’d want to be like you.” He saw Peter take in a deep breath and nod.

“You feel like rejecting the bite is an insult.” Peter moved to the table against one wall and leaned on it. “Is that it?”

“Maybe?” Stiles looked a little surprised. “I feel like sharing my life with you two is amazing, but I also feel like I’m fetishizing you. I was attracted to Chris before I knew, and I wasn’t attracted to you as a feral, but I’ve jumped into this, and the other day with Chris…”

“I saw the bite. He said he was more shifted than usual with you.” He looked Stiles up and down. “He also said you got really excited by the fangs.” Stiles’s face heated up. “Do you feel guilty because of a little kink?”

“What if it’s not just a little kink. What if I’m fetishizing you?” He leaned against the opposite wall. “I feel like one of those guys who says he’s not racist because he dates people of another color, but won’t actually engage in anything that has to do with the culture.”

“That might be the silliest thing you’ve suggested, Stiles. Don’t get me wrong, the fact that you’re checking yourself is refreshing, but you’ve gotten about as deeply into our culture as possible.” He got a glint in his eye. “Our culture has definitely gotten pretty deeply into you on multiple occasions.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Very funny.”

“Shut up, I’m hilarious.” Peter chuckled to himself. “Not wanting to give up who you are and abandon your humanity isn’t an insult. Even when he had humans in the family, not all of them wanted the bite. There are weaknesses to being one of us, and some people don’t want to be part of a group that has no more rights than cattle.”

“That’s just it. I can cry about the injustice, and I can say I’m fighting for your rights, but I don’t want to be you.”

“Do you consider yourself a feminist?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you want to stop being a man and be a woman instead?”

“No.”

“Then stop feeling guilty about wanting to remain yourself.” Peter smirked as Stiles mulled over his response. “The people who want the bite are usually looking to fix something they don’t like about themselves, or they want something they envy in others.” Stiles relaxed. He sighed and felt a weight drop from him. “You’re perfect the way you are, and you’ve never asked Christopher or me to be less of who we are.”

“I guess I was over-thinking.” He felt silly saying it.

“The fact that you were having these thoughts just makes me love you even more, Stiles.” Peter let the words fall easily, naturally, and Stiles almost missed them. Peter smiled at the Omega when Stiles straightened up, suddenly.

“Wait! You-”

“I adore you, Stiles. You’re incredibly easy to love, and I’m so sorry no one’s made you feel that way.”

“Thanks.” Stiles tried to think about the right thing to say in return.

“Don’t respond to that tonight. Don’t over-think it. Love is something we make, and something we do far more than it’s something we say. You show me every day how you feel, Stiles. I’m pleased to be in your life, and I’m the lucky one who probably doesn’t deserve you.” Peter’s eyes flared red. “Now that the sappy things are out in the open, why don’t we go home before you fall n your face in the dark.”

“There’s a light over there.” Stiles went out near the door and turned on some of the lanterns Deaton used at night. He returned to the room and saw Peter looking over the cross.

“Seems a shame to leave without trying it out.” Peter shed his jacket and shoes. “Why don’t you put me in it, and I’ll try to escape.”

“Are you sure?”

“This is how Deaton and I agreed to test it. It’s unlikely anything feral will be stronger than me,” he said, smugly.

“Get up there,” Stiles ordered with a smile and secured Peter’s hands and feet with the leather. Peter tested it by wiggling, squirming, and eventually by trying to use brute strength to break it. The wooden cross stood firm and even stopped him from tipping it over. Stiles crowed with delight when Peter finally admitted defeat.

“What would have happened if someone who didn’t know how to use mountain ash put me in them?”

“With this? I’m not sure. After I get you loose, maybe you can try to put the restraints on yourself and see if you can make a barrier.” He stepped up in front of peter and reached up for his wrist.

“Now this brings back memories,” Peter purred and pushed the erection growing in his pants against the Omega.”

“Good or bad?”

“Frustrating, mostly.” Peter shrugged. “Maybe I’m just conditioned to get excited when you’ve got me tied up.”

“Okay, I’ll try and hurry.”

“Maybe…” In the dim light that came over the wall from the lantern, Peter’s eyes flashed red. “Maybe you can satisfy something for me?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Let me be in charge while I’m restrained?”

“It’s probably the least I can do…” Stiles began with a smile.

“No.” Peter said it quickly. “If you’re uncomfortable doing this here with me, for any reason, don’t agree because you think you ‘owe’ me.” He looked down at his human lover with burning red eyes. “I’ve tried to kill you over a hundred times; you were no more aware of the real me than I was of you.”

“Okay.”

“Can you let that go? Can you accept that you owe me nothing?” Stiles hesitated and looked down at his feet.

“Yes. I can let that go.”

“Do you want this?” He couldn’t easily gesture, so he pointed in the general downward direction that got his point across.

“Yes. Tell me what you want, Alpha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't like the way this originally ended, and I wrote myself into a corner in the next chapter. I've been overwhelmed at home and only had little moments to try and piece together a story. Sorry for the disjointed original.


	7. Facing the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles satisfies Peter's wolf. They both move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Some flashback to the night Peter knotted Stiles without his full and coherent consent.

“I want you to please the wolf. I want to give it something it’s been wanting for a long time.”

Peter’s wolf was, in fact, quite sketchy and untrustworthy most of the time. It was always trying to insert a tasteless- _but funny_ -joke in the corner of Peter’s mouth. It was the extra few centimeters of lip twist that turned an amused smile into a smug smirk. It was the part of him that was frequently responsible for the incidents when he acted without thinking, usually when he was afraid or insecure. The wolf was a hundred percent Peter, but Peter wasn’t a hundred percent wolf. Stiles was safe from him when he was restrained, Stiles had handled a far more dangerous version of his wolf for years. He could give this to his wolf.

“Tell me how?” Stiles was kneeling at Peter’s feet, and he’d worked the older man’s jeans and underwear midway down his thighs.

“Come close,” he said, “let me put my face, right against your neck.” He let his wolf come forward, which startled Stiles. Stiles was used to the eyes, and had seen the claws and fangs enough times to not be surprised, but he hadn’t clearly seen Peter completely shifted. His brow and cheek ridges became more prominent as a dominance or territorial display, also useful in attracting a mate. The more threatening you looked, the more impressed a mate might be. Peter’s wolf was frightening and ugly but Stiles looked fascinated, and he offered the side of his neck.

The wolf buried its face in Stiles’s neck, gorging itself on his scent. The tangy, sweet scent of Omega, pack, and family. He felt a quick surge from the wolf’s sensory memory and its obsessive desire, along with its resentment were quashed with the relief of gratification. He felt his arousal stir, answering the flare of warmth he smelled from the Omega. _He_ was doing that; he was the one making his Omega aroused. He purred and rumbled, drawing the sweet-smelling boy close with the pleasant and soothing sound.

“What else?” Stiles asked, shaking the wolf out of its fog.

“I want you to get on your knees for me, and suck me off. Not your hands, they’ve always left me feeling unfulfilled. I want your mouth, and I want you to suck like you _need_ me.”

The wolf let its head drop back to rest against the wall and closed his eyes, pushing the more civilized mind away. This was for the primitive creature that had yearned. This was what it had wanted when it hadn’t the words to demand supplication and the opportunity to lavish affection on the Omega. He felt the warm breath, which was enough to stiffen the organ just before the hot, wet mouth engulfed the tip.

Peter gently merged back with his wolf and felt Stiles get him fully wet and then he started to suck. He wanted it to last, but his Omega smelled so sweet, and was making tiny, soft moans as he worshipped Peter’s cock. Groaning, he pushed his hips forward and then felt Stiles reach past him to hold onto the wooden cross. He pulled off for a moment.

“Do it, Peter.” Peter didn’t need to guess what he meant, so he started to fuck forward with his hips thrusting into his Boy’s mouth and the edge of his throat. There was a deep, primitive satisfaction with the way he choked and gurgled at first, the pleasure of affecting someone else in a way they couldn’t hide. He thrust wildly, coming far quicker than he wanted down the Omega’s throat. The climax was shallow, too easily achieved to have the satisfaction of delayed gratification that his wolf wanted.

“Loosen the bonds on my hands and feet, and then take your pants down over your ass,” he growled, still short of breath as his twitching cock was still between the Omega’s lips. Stiles stood with a slightly glazed look in his eyes as he pulled the twisted, wooden pegs they used to keep the leather straps fitted to each wrist. He finished the feet and started to unfasten his pants. “Turn around, face away from me, on your knees.” Stiles nodded and drew his own jeans down over his ass and worked them to mid-thigh, and then he stopped and waited. Still standing, Peter watched him, awash with memories from December.

December~

The wolf was feeling sick and fevered, exhausted from the sharp sleep. The heavy sleep he had after getting a sharp flash of pain, with a deep ache in his muscles. He’d _Bitten._ There were two of them, the girl-bright hair, plump mouth-who he would occasionally accept as a substitute for _his_. Then the youthful Alpha who tried to hide his scent; the wolf wouldn’t let the Alpha touch his mating organ, he was too wrong, and too close to _his._ He felt them. He felt one, and almost the other. Something prickled back in his head and he got flashes of memory of more of the humans. Not humans, but wolves in the coverings that humans wore. He knew them. Noises like voices, but what he could understand. Complex, like the humans.

The wolf heard the roar and felt the building shake. It was a signal. _Here. Now. Victory._ The wolf didn’t know what the crippled Alpha would find victorious, but _His_ was with him. Now _His_ was stumbling towards the stall. He opened it and closed it. The Wolf crooned tiredly, curious and hoping that _His_ was there to groom and soothe him after the bite and the sharp sleep. He’d tried so hard to win him. Now it just hurt to have him close, not acknowledging their intimate connection. _His_ was talking and touching and - _Oh!_ -he was in heat. It must have happened because he saw the wolf as a proper mate. He had Betas. He had fed him treasured sweets. He had shown the Omega that he could protect him by killing the intruders. He had tried to mate the Omega properly, but he’d been interrupted by the other wolf … _Chris!_ A voice in his head that sounded familiar left the word…the name, there.

The wolf shook it off as the Omega dropped to the floor. Not sick, he rumbled with curiosity and went down to the floor, nosing at the spot where he could smell slick through the pesky fabric. _His_ was pushing the fabric out of the way and the sweet fragrance had him crooning and pushing forward to taste. Was he ready? Did he want the wolf? Was he finally choosing?

~

“Hold yourself open, face on the floor.” Peter remembered with his wolf’s nose and tongue as he tasted the Omega’s slick. He buried his face there and pushed his tongue against the tight pucker that loosened up and let out some more sweet slick. Unlike his wolf, he knew this was for him. He knew the boy trusted him and cared. The boy chose him, over and over, and he delved deep, lapping up his reward and poking at him with the tip of his tongue, getting him loosened up for penetration. Even feral, his instincts had been to please and satisfy, not just to take his own pleasure. He moved up over him, covering him with his own body and feeling his cock slide through the fresh slick. In December, his wolf had been too eager, and Stiles had needed to steer his cock with shaking, sweaty hands to his own hole.

Peter’s wolf had been too impatient, and his claws had dug in, frightened the skittish Omega, and he’d lurched away. The wolf had lifted Stiles’s legs, dropping them over his own head, and used his own clothes to trap him at the knees, legs spread and open. Peter’s wolf had itched to bite the boy, make him his mate, but he couldn’t. He’d used up his extra power, shoving it into his new Betas for the change. He hadn’t had enough left to bind a mate. His wolf would have done it if he’d been able, though. He’d have bound Stiles to him, teeth sinking in flesh.

Peter gently removed the shoes and then the pants and underwear, not feeling as desperate to trap Stiles as his wolf had. He rubbed himself against the slick cheeks and sucked in a quick breath when Stiles reached back after he slipped off his mark and grasped him, firmly. Stiles couldn’t remember this; Duke had taken the memories, not just hidden them. Peter felt the Omega line up his thick head with his sweet little hole and flexed his hips, pushing through with a groan that his boy echoed.

“Ohhhh,” Stiles sighed, folding his arms, and laying his face between them.

“It was just like this,” Peter whispered, nuzzling the sweaty hair. “My wolf was so happy you came to it.” He moved his own knees outward, spreading Stiles wider and bracing his hands on either side. “That night was to terrible to remember, and I don’t know if it was better or worse that I’d already started to care for you when it all came back.”

“Peter,” Stiles reached back and gripped his bare hip. “Are you okay? Do you need to stop?” He was panting, and clearly very aroused, but clear-headed. The glazed look he’d been sporting after being face-fucked was gone as his concern for his lover became more urgent.

“No. I want this.” He slid in to the hilt and out again. “I want my wolf to have you, fully aware and aroused for me.” He rocked gently, and Stiles moved backwards with him, taking him deep when he arched his back and tilted his hips. He rubbed his face against his Boy’s shoulders.

“Me too,” gasped the Omega. “Want you to come inside me.” He flexed his hole and tightened it around Peter. With a grunt, Peter pushed the shirt up the Omega’s chest and over his head, so it fell down his arms to the floor. He needed skin, and sweat. He licked up Stiles’s spine and growled, feeling an involuntary shudder go through his lover. He let his fangs drop and snapped his hips forward, gaining a moan from the Omega and ran a sharp fang over his nape as his thrusts increased in speed and intensity.

“If I hadn’t bitten two people that day, I’d have mated you.” He rammed into Stiles as he growled in his ear. The Omega began to tremble, and he felt the younger man’s fingers curl in his hair and urge his mouth to his nape. “Yes, right there. I’d have bitten you, held you, jaws keeping you still as I pumped my come into you. I’d have plugged you up with my knot and not released my jaws until my knot came out.”

“Feel so good, Peter.” Stiles began slamming back against him, temporarily losing their rhythm. “Want your knot. Want you to fuck me harder.” He ran his nails over the Alpha’s scalp and bared his neck.

Peter needed no more encouragement. He gripped Stiles’s hips and started pulling his Boy back onto his cock, growls punctuated each time their hips slapped together. Stiles was trembling so hard that Peter reared back and pulled him onto his lap. He fucked up into him, leaning back and bouncing the Omega on his dick. He gripped the younger man’s cock and started jerking him..

“Arms around my neck,” he gasped, and Stiles lifted his arms, and laced his fingers behind Peter’s neck, making his own back arch. The slight change in angle was perfect and the both groaned as the Alpha penetrated deep. Stiles bared his neck and Peter bit as they both came. It took several minutes to catch their breath, and then Stiles began to chuckle. “What?”

“I hope Deaton didn’t want this room to smell neutral.”

“Shit.” Peter snickered and ran his hands down the Omega’s flanks.

“I think we’ve got some neutralizing spray in here. I’ll definitely want to spray the cross, too. But we should probably get dressed and go home before I trip on something.”

“Fair enough.”

~

Isaac was exhausted, his muscles were sore and cramped. He blinked perspiration from his stinging eyes and looked up through his sweaty curls. Chris stood in front of him, and Isaac screamed through his gag when he saw what the Alpha was about to put inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little blurb about Isaac and Chris there, I'll put their story separate if people are interested.


	8. Gone Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ending, and small lead-in to the next part.

Stiles, Scott, John, and Rafe McCall went on a salmon fishing trip to one of the rivers. They had to look carefully in order to find a spot with relative privacy. Stiles and Rafe used lines and Scott and John acted as their respective spotters until each man caught a fish he could keep. Then John and Scott stripped down to their swim shorts and had a little fun spotting, and then diving for their catch of the day. They missed the first few, even after Scott bounded on all fours over rocks and fallen logs to chase a big one until it got too close to some other fishermen to continue. They’d all laughed about it, but He caught one on his first dive the next time. John didn’t have as much luck ambushing his fish, so he stood very still, submerged to his hips in a deeper part of the river. He bent down with his clawed hands under the water and waited, patiently until a big one came close enough for him to lunge and pierce it with his claws. He waded out triumphantly and they put the beasts on ice while they dried in the sun and ate sandwiches.

Stiles strutted into Peter’s apartment, surprising the Alpha, who had been napping on the couch. He sat up with a smile and some rumpled curls as he saw the Omega hoist his large fish out of the cooler.

“Oh my, what a lucky wolf I am.” He watched as the Omega puffed out his chest and pranced around holding the heavy fish in his hands.

“See, I have hunted! I have brought home my kill for the pack!”

“Your skills as an angler are now the stuff of legend!” Peter greeted Stiles with a kiss. “Want to cold smoke it, or cook, or freeze it?”

“I thought I’d break it down and smoke most of it, but do some sashimi tonight. Does that sound good?”

“Wonderful! Why don’t I grab something to go with it?” Peter was bursting with excitement and he went to the Asian market down the street and picked up a few odds and ends including a daikon, some green tea, sake, and pre-made sushi rice. He ran into Satomi who was coming out of the Mexican grocery store next door. He bowed to her, and she smirked at him, shaking her head.

“Good afternoon.”

“You are looking well, Peter.”

“Thank you, I’m the lucky recipient of some fresh salmon and I’ll be enjoying sashimi tonight. How are you?”

“I’m well, I’m pleased that your pack is flourishing.” She paused. “Have you found Cora, yet?”

“Not yet, but I’m going to be traveling to South America as soon as Boyd gets back.”

“Please stop in to see me before you go, I have something that might be helpful.” She bowed to him and he did the same. They parted ways and Peter returned to the apartment building, buzzing with happiness. Stiles cooked for him, and everyone else in the pack on a regular basis, but bringing a fresh offering that had been caught with his own hands to his Alpha, and lover, felt special to the wolf. Stiles probably hadn’t known what a big deal it was, but it was symbolic to wolves. Gifts were common enough, and certain gifts had meaning.

When Peter returned, Stiles had the fish de-boned and portioned into neat slices for sashimi, and the rest curing for the smoker.

“That was quick,” Peter said, as Stiles put the plate of sashimi in the fridge to stay cold.

“Your fillet knife is amazing,” the Omega replied, running the blade in question under the faucet. “I’m thinking of taking some culinary classes at the community college, and maybe see if Isaac wants to try it out with me.”

“I thought you knew how to cook already.”

“I do, but I was always more of a baker than a chef. I think I’d like to learn how to do some of the prep really well and make stocks and spice mixes so I can start doing stuff from scratch.”

“What prompted this new interest?”

“You were talking to me about working for the pack, you know. Like, actually being employed that way.”

“Yes, but you also seemed interested in continuing your work with Deaton.”

“Scott’s going to full-time soon, and without the wolves coming in who’d been dosed with toxin, I’m not needed as desperately.” There was something in his tone that tickled Peter’s ear. He unpacked his shopping bags beside Stiles who happily took another of Peter’s fine blades from the magnetic block beside the range. He started dicing fruit as the wolf put away the items that needed to stay cold.

“Did everyone else get some fish?”

“Yeah, each got one, and then John and Scott ganged up on the poor salmon and brought in three more. They could only keep two of them, but it was a lot of fun. You should come next time.”

“I will.” Peter still felt the happy buzz of a wolf whose partner had fished for him. He let Stiles arrange the fruit on a platter, and portion out the rice to be served on the side. Peter was allowed to grate the daikon and add it to the salad with a ginger dressing that Stiles ‘whipped up’. The Omega caught the wolf staring at him and tilted his head to the side, inquisitively. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, Sweetheart.”

“It’s the provider-thing, right?”

“You knew about it?”

“One, I studied Wild Were behavior in college. Two, there are a lot of species that use gifts of food to show their appreciation.” He bit his lip. “Three, Malia told me what it means when I told her about the fishing trip.” Peter felt a fluttering in his chest. “You said it before, that what I do tells you more about how I feel than what I can say.”

“You’re giving me your salmon?”

“I’m giving you the salmon I caught with my own two hands.” He looked away. “You don’t even have to share it with me. I caught it for you.” He waited, but Peter was speechless for a moment before he pulled Stiles into his arms.

“I’ll happily share my salmon with you, Stiles. Thank you so much.” He kissed his lover and held him tightly for several more minutes. “Let’s eat,” he said and pulled out two sets of chopsticks. He had regular soy-sauce and wasabi paste for himself, but Stiles liked a Japanese steak marinade that had black mustard seed and some sweetness to it for dipping his fish. Peter had started stocking it at the apartment since they usually ordered in sushi at least once every other week.

“I wish Isaac had been able to join us today, I think he might’ve had fun,” Stiles said, digging into his salmon.

“I have it on good authority that he’ll be returning fairly soon,” Peter said, lightly. He looked up and met the glittering gaze of his younger lover across the counter. “It’s not for me to tell,” he said.

“Isaac’s been gone for almost a week, and Chris bowed out of movie night the day after he left.” He narrowed his eyes at his Alpha’s innocent expression. “Okay, none of my business.” He smiled and went back to eating.

“How do you feel about the idea of Chris seeing someone else?”

“Chris already sees other people,” he said with a shrug. “There was a reason he had to wear a disguise at the club in San Francisco. He obviously has connections there, and the Domme I met told me that there are affiliate clubs in other cities.” He popped another morsel of salmon in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. “I don’t like leaving questions unanswered. You know I really think it tastes better when you put effort into catching it.”

“What about you?” He saw Stiles dab his mouth with a napkin and then lean back in his chair. “We haven’t talked about this since your heat.”

“Exclusivity wasn’t part of the discussions we’ve had, and I’ve always understood that wild packs have a very recreational view of sex as an activity that promotes bonding.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“My whole life has changed since this past fall, including my view of a social dynamic and since my dad is part of this life too, I haven’t felt the same reservations in regard to embracing change.” He took a sip of his sake. “The salmon is my way of showing you how important _you_ are to _me_. I wanted to do something meaningful and thoughtful because I care for you. I love you, in fact. It doesn’t mean I want anything to change, it just means I felt like expressing myself.”

“I feel like there’s something more.”

“I have no issue with you or Chris satisfying an urge for something I don’t like with someone else.”

“But?”

“There’s a difference between respecting privacy, and keeping a secret from me. If you want to see someone, but you feel you have to lie about it, that’s something that bothers me. I hate being deceived when it comes to relationships. I’m also aware that I might not be able to keep up with you and that our…bedroom stiles overlap significantly, but there will always be things we all do that the other two may not find appealing.” Stiles looked thoughtful for a moment. “If we’re out as a team, I’ll wingman the hell out of you two. If we’re on a date, I want our attention on each other. That’s just courtesy and clear communication.”

“I think we’re on the same page.”

“I respect Isaac’s privacy, but he’s also my roommate and about to be my brother once the paperwork gets finalized. I wouldn’t have guessed that he and Chris would meet up without saying something.”

“I can’t share Isaac’s problems without his permission. Especially if he hasn’t shared them with me. Chris went on a trip because he was worried. I think he discovered something unexpected when he arrived.”

“We can talk when they get back.” He paused, looking at his cup for a moment. “This has something to do with Allison, right?”

~


End file.
